


Hoist the Colours

by glyphsbowtie



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Pirate, Angst, BDSM, Bisexual Jesse McCree, Bisexuality, F/F, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Gratuitous Smut, Homosexuality, M/M, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-01
Updated: 2017-06-16
Packaged: 2018-11-07 16:31:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 12
Words: 19,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11062821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glyphsbowtie/pseuds/glyphsbowtie
Summary: Captain Jesse McCree has been given a chance to save his pirate crew from the gallows. All he has to do is help Commodore Reyes bring down the notorious Captain Hanzo Shimada, and he's a free man. It should be easy.Captain Hanzo Shimada is looking for a fabled treasure in a place that few men have ever seen. One of those men is Jesse McCree. All Hanzo has to do is find McCree and persuade him to take him to the treasure. It should be easy.It is not going to be easy.





	1. I

**Author's Note:**

> I'm just making this up as I go along. It isn't proof-read so apologies if there's any silly errors.
> 
> Inspired by POTC, obviously.

“You have a chance to make things right. A chance to atone for your sins.” Commodore Reyes leans forward to stare intently at the man sat in chains opposite him. “You're lucky you're being offered this chance.”

 

The chained man is younger than he looks, aged by coarse stubble and deep lines around his warm eyes. His lip is split from the beating he received earlier, but it still curls sardonically as he regards the Commodore. “Your plan is suicide. It's far simpler for me to merely hang, Commodore.”

 

Reyes flicks a disapproving glance over his prisoner. The pirate captain wears a loose white shirt, unbuttoned low to reveal a hairy, tanned chest. Jesse McCree is tall and lean, but Reyes can see the muscles rippling beneath the dark skin whenever the pirate makes a languid, casual movement. He has a shock of brown hair, tied loosely at the nape of his neck, his face framed by some stray tendrils.

 

“Last July, your ship docked near Port Francis. Your crew stole a considerable amount of gold.”

 

McCree frowns, suspicious. This isn't his biggest or most famous crime, and he is clearly wondering why Reyes is mentioning it at all.

 

“There was a man sailing with you. A newcomer to your crew. He assaulted a woman in a tavern and you shot him.”

 

McCree’s eyes widen as he understands what Reyes is getting at. “I get it. You're tryin’ to persuade me to help you because I ain't such a bad guy after all, is that it?”

 

Reyes inclines his head.

 

“That ain't goin’ to work, Commodore.” The pirate leans forward suddenly, his face more animated than Reyes has seen it yet. “However, if you pardon my crew…”

 

“I cannot allow a group of pirates to go free, McCree.”

 

“Then I won't help you. And I'd say I'm your best shot at this.”

 

“You said my plan was suicide.”

 

The pirate chuckles. “It is. But I can at least bring them down with me.”

 

Reyes nods at the soldier stood by McCree, who bends and begins to unfasten the chains at his wrists. As soon as one of his long, strong hands is free, the pirate startles Reyes with the quickest motion he's made yet, wrapping his coarse fingers around the Commodore's wrist.

 

“My crew. I want your word.”

 

Reyes looks at McCree's hand then back into his face with a look that would make a less brave man quiver. McCree doesn't blink and Reyes exhales. “You have my word.”

 

*

 

_ A free man _ . McCree stares at himself in the mirror and doesn't know whether to laugh or scream. A free man indeed; he's a slave for the Navy, planning to help them bring down the dreaded Captain Hanzo Shimada from the inside.

 

It is almost time. The blanket of the night is thick and oppressive. A thin sheen of sweat already coats Jesse’s face as he turns away from the smeared glass of the mirror. He has been staying in this desolate room above a tavern in Tortuga for almost a week, awaiting the arrival of Shimada. The streets were buzzing with excitement and fear at his imminent arrival. He was apparently bringing a veritable shipload of gemstones.

 

The Twin Dragons, his famous ship, docked this afternoon. Jesse had watched as best he could through the chipped window in his room, staring at the distant crowds surrounding the dark wooden vessel. Goosebumps had crept over his skin.

 

“It is time,” Lieutenant Morrison says from the doorway, clutching his rifle as he stares distrustfully at McCree.

 

“Sure thing,” McCree replies with a confidence he doesn't feel. He reaches for his battered hat, which is slightly rounder than those of the current fashion, and his worn serape, which he pulls on to hide his sword and guns.

 

They have planned this-  _ choreographed _ it, even- meticulously. McCree follows Morrison to the top of the stairs and looks out at the crowd. The tavern is full to bursting with people. The air is smoky and scented with sweat and rum.

 

“Captain McCree!” Morrison announces in a loud, booming voice that draws more than a few glances. Jesse isn't as infamous as Hanzo Shimada, but he is still well-known. “I am placing you under arrest for the crime of piracy!”

 

He reaches for McCree’s wrists but the pirate leaps nimbly onto the rickety banister and slides down with a loud, dramatic laugh that booms around the tavern. As he drops into the throng of bodies, he hears Morrison's furious roar and can almost forget for a second that this is exactly as they planned it.

 

He pushes his way through the crowd with real urgency, even sparing a flirtatious grin for a pretty blonde courtesan whose jaw hangs open as he skirts past her. The door opens as he reaches it and four armed naval officers stand there, searching for him.

 

“Catch that pirate!” Morrison roars with a hatred that isn't faked.

 

McCree changes course and darts back towards the bar, leaping up onto the surface and skipping lightly around the various mugs and bottles. The crowd is loving this; they cheer loudly and watch him. One of the officers takes a shot at him; he's aiming to miss, but Jesse still flinches as a bottle smashes on the shelf behind the bar.

 

He reaches the window and turns to look across the sea of shining, thrilled faces at Morrison, who is pushing his way through the crowd with his pistol drawn. McCree grins, removes his hat with a flourish, and says, “Apologies, Lieutenant. Somewhere I've got to be.”

 

He jumps through the window and it hurts quite a lot more than planned. Glass drives its way into his palms and he falls clumsily on his side. There isn't time to waste, although he wishes he could lie still in the muddy street and brood. The crowd has pushed its way to the window and they cheer him on as he gets to his feet and crosses to the hitching post, unlooping the rope of a dark chestnut horse and leaping atop it.

 

It's all downhill to the docks and he sets off at a gallop. Despite the fact that this whole thing is fake, his heart is thundering in his chest. So far, nothing actually dangerous has happened, but there's a chance that Hanzo Shimada will simply cut his throat when he sees him.

 

A very real chance, if the rumours are true.

 

People are out in the streets already, excited about Shimada, and they stare as Captain Jesse McCree races past them. He tips his hat to the children with a dashing grin.

 

“McCree!” Morrison is behind him on a horse, his voice echoing in the narrow street they are riding down.

 

A gunshot cracks behind him, and he hears a window smash. He glances over his shoulder. Morrison is getting closer.

 

There is a blur and then the solid weight of something- someone- landing on the horse behind him. The horse, to its credit, doesn't even stumble as the newcomer leans out to the side.

 

“What the hell-?” McCree says, struggling to see the man, turning his body as far as he can.

 

The man is Japanese. One of Shimada’s pirates, no doubt. His dark eyes stare into McCree's for a second. They are beautiful, enough to make Jesse momentarily forget what he is doing here. McCree sees a strong, muscled arm covered in intricate tattoos and can't understand what the man is wearing.

 

Then he sees the bow and arrows.

 

The man pulls an arrow back, leaning dangerously off the horse, apparently using only the strength in his legs for support. He must be aiming at Morrison.

 

McCree is torn. He doesn't like Morrison. Or any of the naval bastards really. But he's working with them, and this whole chase is faked. This strange, beautiful-eyed pirate obviously thinks he is helping McCree.

 

He waits until he feels the man tense before releasing the arrow and twitches the horse to the left. He hears the irritated groan of the man as his arrow misses its mark.

 

“Captain McCree, I trust you are better at sailing a ship than riding a horse,” the man says, turning so that his lips are practically on Jesse's ear. The sarcasm, thick accent and whisper soft pressure of his lips are enough to make Jesse's stomach twist up in desire.

 

It has been awhile, he supposes. Still, he needs to concentrate. Perhaps he can seduce this piratical bowman once he is safely ensconced on Shimada's crew. “Fret not, mate. I'm regarded as an expert in that particular art.”

 

The man considers. One of his hands, the one not clutching the bow, has moved to Jesse's waist. It's resting there in a perfectly innocent way that makes Jesse squirm. “I am looking for you, Captain McCree.”

 

This is an interesting turn of events. “Is that so, darlin’?” Jesse allows himself a chuckle. This is a done deal, isn't it? This young pirate has clearly heard the stories of McCree’s prowess as a lover and has decided he wants a round.

 

The man pauses again. “We shall return to my ship. If the naval officers follow us down there, we will slaughter them.”

 

His words have a cold brutality that makes McCree shiver a little. Reyes was right about him, really; he has a reputation as a gentleman pirate. Truthfully, he tries to do the right thing whenever possible. Cold-blooded murder has never been his thing.

 

Morrison has fallen back as planned, though. They won't be followed down to the Twin Dragons. McCree frowns to himself as they make their way down to the docks in silence. The hand on his waist never moves, never varies in pressure. He finds himself breathing in the archer’s scent. It is woody and musky, with vague hints of something sweet and floral. This man is delicious. Jesse already knows he has to have him.

 

The Twin Dragons was imposing from a distance but up close it is breathtaking. Jesse dismounts and stares with open admiration at the gleaming wood.

 

“She is a beauty, is she not?” the archer asks proudly, leaping nimbly down behind him.

 

McCree turns to him and finally gets his first proper view. What he sees takes is more imposing, more breathtaking, than the ship. The archer is a little shorter than Jesse, and he is heavily muscled. In the late evening sun, his skin glows golden. He wears tight black trousers and a strange white shirt which wraps around his broad chest, leaving his thick arms bare. The tattoos on his arms are of dragons.

 

McCree knows this man by reputation and he feels ridiculous for not realising earlier. “Captain Shimada. Thank you for rescuing me.” His heartbeat is painfully strong in his throat. “I'm so sorry I called you 'darlin’’ before.”

 

Shimada doesn't smile. His beautiful eyes burn into McCree's. There is a terrifying intensity in his gaze. This man is remarkably humourless. He is making a visible effort to soften his features, to appeal to Jesse. McCree needs to find a way to persuade Shimada to take him with him. The plan was that Morrison would chase him onto the ship and McCree would throw himself upon Shimada’s mercy. However, it seems that Shimada wants something from him.

 

And sadly, what he wants is apparently not a tumble in Jesse’s bed.

 

“We seek the heavenly river. Orihime’s river.” Shimada’s gaze never falters as he speaks. “The treasure there is to be mine. You have been there, if the legends are to be believed.”

 

_ Legends? _ McCree forgets what he is doing here, forgets that he needs to be on this ship. “No,” he says automatically, the blood in his veins turned to ice at the mention of that fearful place. “I swore I’d never return.”

 

“I heard that also,” Hanzo Shimada says thoughtfully, inclining his head. He sighs. “Genji, if you would?”

 

He is speaking to someone behind Jesse, who turns too late to see another pair of cold eyes before something heavy smashes into the side of his head, knocking his hat off and making the world fade to black.


	2. II

“Why have you given McCree his own room?” Genji Shimada is scowling as he approaches his elder brother at the wheel.

 

Hanzo frowns at his tone but doesn’t mention it. Genji has been often thus of late, unpleasant and questioning. Their father lies dying back in Hanamura, and Hanzo imagines that every hint of life that seeps away from him increases Genji’s foul mood.

 

“We are trying to persuade him to take us to the heavenly river. We need his cooperation.”

 

“You kidnapped him,” Genji growls. “I doubt giving him his own room will sweeten that.”

 

Hanzo shrugs, fighting to keep his face neutral. Inside, he is angry and disappointed at his brother. “I need something with which to threaten him, do I not? If I start pleasantly, I have plenty to work towards.” Hanzo means this. His reputation is not undeserved. He saw something in McCree’s face when they reached the ship, though- and as he thinks about it now, he still isn’t sure what it was. McCree is no danger to him, he is sure of that.

 

Genji rolls his eyes, the motion highlighting the feline qualities of his face. He is slight and small where Hanzo is tall and broad. Hanzo has often thought that his younger brother has more than a passing resemblance to the  _ koro-pok-guru,  _ a race of agile, small creatures of Ainu legend. Hanzo’s crew are steadfastly ignoring the exchange between their captain and his wayward brother, but he knows he needs to stop this now. He has a reputation to uphold.

 

“Genji, unless you have something useful to tell me, you are dismissed,” he says.

 

Genji’s lips twist into a humourless grin. “McCree has awoken. And he is making a fair amount of noise about it.”

 

“Take the wheel,” Hanzo orders his brother.

 

He sets off to the cabins. He is presently armed only with his dagger and a pistol. He doubts he will need them, but he checks their presence with his fingers carefully nonetheless. He removed McCree’s weapons himself when they brought him aboard.

 

The man he has stationed outside of the cabin is trying hard to ignore the yelling coming from within, but he looks relieved as the captain approaches.

 

“Dismissed,” Hanzo tells him, and he scuttles away.

 

Hanzo pushes the door open and the noise immediately ceases. McCree is tied to the bed, wrists bound to the headboard with soft rope. Judging by the twisted blankets and the way the bed has moved several inches away from the wall, he has been trying his hardest to escape his bonds.

 

He looks at Hanzo with an emotion that Hanzo can’t place. His brown hair has fallen loose around his stubbled face, giving him a wild look.

 

“Please, remain calm, Captain McCree,” Hanzo tells him, stepping into the room and closing the door behind him.

 

McCree regards him for a moment, then laughs. It brightens his face, deepens the creases around his eyes. “Calm? Forgive me, Cap’n Shimada, but I’ve been assaulted and kidnapped and I ain’t sure why. I’m hardly goin’ to be calm, am I?”

 

“I will not hurt you if you help me.”

 

“I ain’t goin’ back there.” McCree’s voice is firm.

 

“It is the ultimate prize, Captain McCree. Fortune beyond measure.”

 

“Accordin’ to some. I went there. I saw no treasure.”

 

Hanzo takes a step closer. McCree’s eyes are misted over with memory. Hanzo wants to pluck the memories from his brain. “Tell me, what did you see?”

 

The room smells of the incense Hanzo lit earlier. It is a heavy, comforting scent, and he watches McCree breathe deeply before fixing Hanzo with a haunted stare. “I saw somethin’ nobody should see. Ever.” He glances down at his own stomach.

 

Hanzo himself removed the serape McCree was wearing. It is folded on a chair with the battered hat, pistol and sword, safely out of reach of the restrained pirate. Now, he wears only rough brown trousers, black boots and a loose white shirt. It is already loose around his chest, revealing his dark skin and excessive hair. His stomach, however, remains covered.

 

Without thinking about it, Hanzo approaches him. McCree visibly tenses,inching back as far as he can as Hanzo kneels on the bed beside him, reaching for his shirt.

 

“Cap’n Shimada? What… what are you doing?” When Hanzo’s eyes flicker up to McCree’s face, he is flushed.

 

Hanzo hears himself speak but he isn’t thinking of the words. For a second, he is lost in the warmth of McCree’s eyes. They are filled with questions that Hanzo feels a desire to answer. “Let me. Please.”

 

He unfastens the shirt. McCree is quivering and Hanzo wants to tell him not to be afraid, but he probably should be terrified. The shirt falls open, revealing a hairy stomach. McCree is lean everywhere, with defined muscles lurking beneath his tanned skin. The overall effect is rather pleasant. A vicious-looking pink scar twists its way across the lower part of his stomach, and Hanzo knows instinctively that this is the cause of McCree’s angst.

 

He trails his fingertips along it. “This happened at the heavenly river?” Really, McCree was lucky to survive such a wound.

 

“Yes.” McCree’s voice is almost breathless.

 

“I want to know everything,” Hanzo says, allowing his fingers to drop away from the scar. He sits back on his heels, looming over his prisoner.

 

McCree blinks. Something like defiance comes into his eyes and he twists his mouth into a smile. “Untie my hands and you can know everythin’.”

 

“I am no fool, McCree. You are no match for me in a fight, but I will not allow you to hurt yourself by attempting anything so ridiculous.”

 

McCree quirks an eyebrow. “I see. Well, I ain’t a fool either, Shimada. What would I gain by beatin’ you in a fight- which, by the way, I absolutely  _ could _ do- on a movin’ ship in the middle of the sea?”

 

There is sense in the words, yet Hanzo is reluctant to give into his prisoner so easily. He feels a cruel smile lift his lips. “What if I merely like seeing you restrained?” There is truth in this. It is gratifying to have Jesse McCree- a famous, successful pirate- helpless. The fact that McCree’s body is so long, and undeniably strong, just makes his situation all the more satisfying.

 

McCree’s eyes dart away from Hanzo’s, and his cheeks flush with a sudden pinkness. Hanzo doesn’t understand what on earth has caused this. He is doing his best to intimidate McCree, who is responding by blushing like a virgin bride.

 

“If I untie you, you will remain still, do you understand?” Hanzo says, suddenly keen to end this strange, tense moment.

 

McCree’s confident grin is back. “Just so we’re aware, I could easily disarm you and shoot you with your own damn pistol before you realised what was happenin’.”

 

Hanzo has heard the stories about McCree’s shooting abilities. “You aren’t encouraging me to free you, McCree.”

 

Jesse McCree laughs at him. Hanzo wonders if he’ll ever understand this man. “Fair enough. Untie me, then, Captain. I’ll be good.”

 

With a flick of Hanzo’s dagger, McCree’s wrists are free. He sits back against the headboard, rubbing at them with his long fingers. In his defense, he makes no motion towards Hanzo at all, merely regards his captor with a languid gaze.

 

“Tell me,” Hanzo urges. He moves so that he is sitting cross-legged. The bed isn’t very large, and his leg is pressed up against McCree’s narrow waist.

 

McCree closes his eyes. “Like all good stories, this one starts with a girl…”

 

*

 

_ Five years earlier _

 

“A cheer for the captain!” Lena Oxton yells, raising a bottle of rum above her head in a salute as her bright eyes burn into Jesse’s. She is grinning broadly, her hazel eyes alight with joy.

 

As the crew of the High Noon cheer loudly around the table they currently occupy in the tavern, Jesse shakes his head in mock exasperation at his short-haired, overexcitable navigator. There are plenty of people who wouldn’t allow a woman on a ship, but McCree is not one of them. Lena is irreplaceably talented. 

 

Fawkes, who is sitting to Lena’s right, nudges McCree’s shoulder and smiles. “Who’d thought it, eh? The crew of the High Noon, total heroes?”

 

“We’ve always been heroes, Jamison,” McCree replies with an easy chuckle. He is happy and content.

 

“We didn’t get any gold out of saving her, though, did we?” Mako says glumly, staring into his cup.

 

“You don’t save princesses for gold, Mako,” Lena points out.

 

“She ain’t a princess, she’s just related to royalty,” McCree says, but they aren’t listening to him.

 

“What do you save them for?” Mako retorts.

 

Jamison makes an obscene gesture in front of his chest with both hands and Mako laughs despite himself, while Lena rolls her eyes.

 

“I’d like to see you do that in front of Lady Ziegler,” McCree chuckles. “She’d shoot you without much hesitation. Firecracker of a girl, that one.”

 

“She couldn’t shoot me after we  _ saved _ her, Captain,” Jamison says, as if this is the simplest thing in the world. “Honestly.”

 

Emily pushes her way over to them. The barmaid is pink with the heat and hard work, her long red hair falling free of the knot she has tied it in. She looks resplendent tonight, Jesse thinks. Her green dress sets off her eyes.

 

Her eyes are only for Lena, though, and the pair grin ridiculously at each other for a moment. Jesse wonders when they’re going to do something about it. It isn’t exactly  _ accepted _ , but Lena is a female pirate, for god’s sake.

 

“Captain McCree,” Emily says politely, “there’s a woman asking for you. She wants a private audience. I’ve placed her in room three, if you want to head up.”

 

A woman? Intriguing. McCree grins at his crew, drains the rum in his glass, and puts his hat on. “Gentlemen, Lena, I’ll bid you all goodnight and see you back at the ship in the mornin’.”

 

He pushes his way to the stairs and climbs up. It is dark and quiet up here compared to downstairs. Room three is right in front of him, the door standing slightly ajar, and a cool light flickers inside.

 

She is perched on the bed inside, and she is preternaturally beautiful. Her green eyes are icy, set in an angular, serious face. Her hair is thick and black, and falls freely down her back to her waist. Her ample, ivory breasts spill tantalisingly out of her black corset. She is wearing sheer black skirts, transparent enough to reveal that she is wearing very little beneath them.

 

It is obvious what this woman wants. McCree grins, kicks the door closed behind him, and tips his hat to her.

 

“Good evenin’, beautiful,” he says.

 

“Captain McCree,” she breathes, in a thick French accent. “I need you.”

 

“I believe I can help,” he replies, crossing to her. She wraps her arms around his neck and her thighs around his waist as he lifts her with ease.

 

Her skirts have fallen back to reveal the flawless white skin of her legs. His hands grip them as he crushes his lips to hers. Her kiss is gentle, teasing; her lips dance over his, the tip of her tongue brushes his.

 

He lowers her back to the bed, kneeling between her legs, and she places her hand on his cheek, pushing him back slightly so she can look into his eyes.

 

“I have a proposition for you,” she says. With her free hand, she pulls his hat off and flings it across the room.

 

“I gathered as much, darlin’.”

 

*

 

“Wait.” Hanzo’s face is creased with thought as he regards McCree solemnly. “A strange woman requested to see you and you were quite prepared to simply bed her?”

 

McCree allows himself a reminiscent grin. It had been fun at first, the initial night in particular, and despite what happened afterwards, he can remember the taste of her skin with a pleasant feeling in his gut. “I wasn’t just prepared to, Shimada. I did so.”   
  


“That is incredibly dangerous. What if she wished to hurt you?” Hanzo Shimada is looking at him as though he is an idiot.

 

“Had she wished to, she would have done,” McCree shrugs. “I couldn’t have stopped her. You couldn’t have. Y’see, the woman was Amélie Lacroix.”

 

“Widowmaker,” Shimada breathes. “I have heard of her.”

 

“The very same.”

 

“She wanted you to take her to the heavenly river. She wanted the treasure,” Shimada says, realisation dawning on his face. “Why did she choose you?”

 

McCree has asked himself this hundreds of times. “I suppose she had heard of my fearsome reputation,” he says, half-joking. Both men know that McCree has a reputation as a damn fine pirate, but he is hardly the stuff of nightmares. Unlike Shimada. “Sometimes, I think it was because I’m famously a bit soft,” he admits, surprised at his honesty.

 

“A bit soft?” Shimada is staring at him with those burning eyes. “What do you mean?”

 

“Y’know,” Jesse replies, wishing he hadn’t started this line of conversation, “I have a bit of a conscience. Arguably more than some in our profession. Your good self, for example.”

 

Hanzo doesn’t smile. “I have a conscience,” he returns seriously.

 

The intensity of his gaze finally makes McCree look away. “Well, anyway. I was also rather swayed by her pretty face and her apparent desire to bed me.”

 

Shimada doesn’t reply for a long moment, and Jesse looks back at him. He is so ridiculously handsome, despite the fact that he is also the most terrifying creature McCree has ever encountered. He is unnaturally still, sitting with his legs crossed, an apparently relaxed pose disguising the fact that he could easily murder most men with his bare hands.

 

He is older than McCree first thought. His dark hair is pulled back neatly into a knot atop his head, and the hair at his temples is silver. Jesse has an absurd desire to trace it with his fingers.

 

“I had no idea you were you so susceptible to seduction by women, Captain McCree,” Shimada says finally, his tone unreadable.

 

“Men, too. So your whole kidnap thing was a bit unnecessary, to be honest.” McCree can hear himself talking and cannot make himself stop, despite the fact that this is like poking a tiger with a stick. “Could’ve just fluttered your pretty eyelashes at me instead.”

 

Shimada’s face doesn’t change, but in a second he is on McCree, the dagger pressed against his throat. He sits astride his captive, glaring down at him.

 

“You don’t speak to me like that,” he growls.

 

His eyelashes  _ are _ pretty. Up close, he is beautiful. The solid weight of him, and- damn it- even the pressure of the knife are making McCree dangerously aroused. This is ridiculous. Jesse bites his tongue, aware that if he allows himself to speak he’s going to end up with this throat slit.

 

“Do you understand?” Hanzo Shimada says.

 

McCree swallows. “I understand,” he replies.

 

Fuck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your comments and kudos on my first chapter :)  
> This remains unbeta'd so apologies if any silly errors have managed to slip through the cracks.


	3. III

“What on earth? This one’s a  _ girl _ !”

 

“Gerroff me!” Lena kicks at the officer who has hold of her. Her wrists are chained but her boot lands a solid thud against his shin and he releases her shoulders momentarily. She shrinks back against the bars of the cell he has just removed her from, the one which still contains her friends.

 

“What do you mean, a girl?” The other officer, the one who was daydreaming by the entrance, turns to them.

 

The first officer grabs hold of her again and grabs her chin firmly, turning her face so that the second officer can see it. He has a nasty smile as he glances down at her small breasts.

 

“Better get this one up to Commodore Reyes,” he says.

 

“Get off her!” Jamison has thrown himself against the bars. His eyes are wild as Lena stares back at him. “Lena!”

 

She is dragged away from the cell by both men, up the stairs and out into the burning sunlight. From here, she can see the alluring blue of the sea and the High Noon, which is docked where they left it before Jesse was arrested.

 

She stares at it longingly before they pull her into the neat, white-bricked building they took Jesse to. This is where their offices are.

 

The Commodore’s office door stands open. He is a severe-looking man, with dark features and a neat white wig. He is talking to another officer, this one fairer and more handsome. They both stare at Lena as she is dragged in.

 

“Sir, this pirate- from McCree’s crew- he’s a girl,” says the officer to her right.

 

Reyes casts a coolly assessing glance over Lena, who stares defiantly back.

 

“How did we miss this, Morrison?” he murmurs to the fair man he was talking with.

 

Morrison looks baffled. “Better sit her down, men,” he says to the men holding her.

 

Lena is marched to a chair in front of the grand desk in the office and they sit her down roughly. The men who brought her here are dismissed and Reyes sits down on the other side of the desk, staring at her. Morrison perches on the desk on the same side as Lena, his arms folded as he looks down at her.

 

“What’s your name?” Reyes asks finally.

 

“Lena Oxton.” She raises her chin, proud. “I’m the navigator.”

 

“A female navigator.” Reyes, to his credit, doesn’t look amused. “I had heard that McCree was unorthodox.”

 

“Most men believe it is bad luck to have a female aboard a ship,” Morrison says, his blue eyes kind as he looks down at her. “Did they…?”

 

“What?” Lena realises what he is getting at and laughs. “God, no. I was there as an equal.”

 

“An equal.” Morrison looks back at Reyes.

 

“And to think, we’re talking about the man I have entrusted with the job of bringing down Shimada,” Reyes sighs, shaking his head and looking at Morrison.

 

Something icy fills Lena’s stomach. “Hang on. Shimada- Hanzo Shimada? That’s where you’ve sent Jesse?”

 

Reyes raises an eyebrow, presumably at Lena’s insistence on calling her captain by his first name, and sighs again. “He is going to bring Shimada to justice in exchange for the freedom of himself and his crew.”

 

Lena is furious. “What? Are you  _ insane _ ?”

 

“You heard the Twin Dragons was going to be landing here, presumably?” Reyes continues as if he hasn’t heard her. “We know we can’t take them in a straight fight- we’ve tried it before. So we staged McCree’s escape from us and planted him on Shimada’s ship.”

 

“And Shimada simply allowed this?” Lena asks skeptically. Hanzo Shimada is the most dangerous pirate she can think of.

 

“Well…” Morrison frowns. “Not quite.”

 

“Not quite? What do you mean, not quite?”

 

Morrison glances back at Reyes, then meets her outraged gaze. “I watched from a distance. The two spoke on the docks briefly. Then another man- I believe Genji Shimada- knocked him out and they took him aboard.”

 

Lena falls back in her chair. An emptiness spreads through her. “You’ve killed him. You’ve killed Jesse McCree.”

 

“He would have died anyway. This way, he dies a hero,” Reyes says dismissively.

 

Angry tears burn Lena’s eyes. “He’s already a hero, you bastard. Get Lady Ziegler here, she’ll tell you.”

 

Reyes’ eyebrows lower. “I did hear about that incident. I won’t ask the good lady to get involved in this distasteful business.”

 

“You have to let me go after Jesse,” Lena says. “It’s his only chance. We can take the High Noon. It’s fast enough to catch the Twin Dragons.”

 

Reyes looks at Morrison. “Return Miss Oxton to her cell, please. Place her away from the men on her crew, if you would.”

 

Morrison has to lift Lena. Her body is numb, grief blinding her. Jesse isn’t going to survive this. She is powerless to help him now. Morrison carries her out of the building. He isn’t rough with her.

 

A small crowd has gathered, summoned by the excitement of a lady pirate. Lena wants to turn her face away from the crowd, to hide her tears, but to do so would be to press her face into Morrison’s jacket, and she knows he won’t allow it, nor will her pride.

 

“Let me go!” she shrieks, suddenly possessed by a fury. “I have to go after Jesse! He’ll  _ die _ if we don’t save him!”

 

She is thrashing and wriggles free of his arms. He grabs her by the shoulders and continues to move her back towards the cellblock. “Miss Oxton, please calm down,” he says.

 

“Get Lady Ziegler!” Lena yells at him. “She’ll tell you- he’s a hero!”

 

A woman with red hair has pushed her way to the front of the crowd. _ Emily _ . She stares at Lena with horrified green eyes. She has never seen Lena like this; the pirate is usually perky and confident, not a shrieking, crying mess.

 

Lena wants to call out to her, but she doesn’t know what to say. She has loved Emily for as long as she has known her, but has no way of knowing if the feeling is reciprocated.

 

She satisfies herself with staring greedily at the beautiful barmaid until she is dragged back into the shadows of the cellblock.

 

*

 

Night falls. Lena lies on the ground in her lonely cell, tears rolling down her cheeks. In the cell next to her, Jamison is the only person still awake, watching her with helpless eyes. She has relayed the bad news to the crew, and they have spent the day in mourning for their captain.

 

If he isn’t dead yet, he soon will be.

 

There are footsteps. Lena hears Jamison’s sharp intake of breath and rolls onto her side to see a pair of heeled black boots. Her eyes travel upwards, taking in beautifully curved legs clad in tight black. Her stomach sinks.

 

“What the fuck do you want?” she demands.

 

Widowmaker looks down at her with cold green eyes. She hasn’t changed over the years. The lacy white blouse she wears reveals more than it hides, and her long hair falls in a glossy tail. Her rifle is perched casually on her shoulder.

 

“Where is he?” the assassin asks.

 

Lena sits up. “Somewhere not even you can get him.”

 

Widowmaker smirks. “There is no such place, Lena.”

 

“He’s on the Twin Dragons.”

 

Amélie raises her eyebrows. “Damn it,” she spits. She turns and begins to walk away.

 

“Wait!” Lena yells at her back. “What do you want with him?”

 

Widowmaker doesn’t pause or look back. “I heard Shimada was going after the treasure of the heavenly river. I intend to race him to it.”   
  


“And you thought Jesse would  _ help _ you? Are you mad?” Lena shouts.

 

The assassin doesn’t respond, merely disappears as easily as she appeared. Lena falls back against the bars closest to Jamison and exhales.

 

“That bitch,” she spits.

 

“He would have helped her, you know,” Jamison says. When Lena looks at him, outraged, he continues, “You know what he’s like, Lena.”

 

Lena sighs. It’s true. Their captain does have a soft heart. One that, unfortunately, is easily influenced by attractive men and women.

 

“Wait,” she says suddenly. “Shimada is going after Orihime’s river. He  _ needs  _ Jesse.”

 

“Yes…?” Jamison says, not following.

 

“He’s alive.” Lena breathes a sigh of relief. “At least for now. Jesse’s alive.”

 

More footsteps approach and Lena almost hope that Widowmaker is coming back so that she can continue to yell at someone. This is someone different though- two people, in fact. Both are female, cloaked, their faces hidden by hoods. The girl in the green cloak kneels by Lena’s cell and the hood falls back, revealing a wild fall of red hair and bright eyes.

 

“Emily!” Lena gasps, throwing herself at the bars and kneeling before her, daring to cover the white fingers Emily has wrapped around one of the bars with her own. “What are you doing here?”

 

“We’re freeing you,” Emily says as if it is the most obvious thing in the world. “We need to save Jesse, don’t we?”

 

For a moment, Lena is dazzled by this woman. She is truly the most perfect woman Lena has ever met.

 

“Damn right we do,” Jamison says, nudging Mako beside him, and kicking the small cabin boy awake. The cabin boy blinks and then shakes the deckhand beside him awake.

 

“How?” Lena asks.

 

“I paid off the guard. I have the keys.” The other woman, cloaked in blue, has a warm voice. Her hood falls back to reveal the neat blonde hair and kind smile of Lady Ziegler. She passes the keys to Emily.

 

“Lady Ziegler- how did you-?”

 

“I went and got her,” Emily says, standing up to unlock the cell. “After I heard you yelling. I told her Jesse was in danger.”

 

Lena steps out, stares at Emily. She is possessed with an intense desire to kiss her, but Emily has already turned away and is releasing the rest of the crew.

 

“Get your weapons,” Mako growls as they start to spill out.

 

“Go quickly,” Lady Ziegler tells them, raising her hood. “Good luck.”

 

Lena and Emily stand staring at each other as the pirates mill around them, gathering their things and preparing themselves. The words that always threaten to come spilling out whenever Lena sees Emily bubble in her mouth.

 

“I’m coming with you,” Emily says suddenly.

 

“You are?” Lena replies. “It’s dangerous. With Shimada involved, it’ll be  _ extremely  _ dangerous.”

  
“Even more reason why you need me there, then,” Emily says with a shrug, then grins at Lena.


	4. IV

Hanzo needed some time to think.

 

He tells himself this is why he fled McCree after the prisoner made that bizarre comment about his eyelashes. He tells himself that the feeling that filled him as McCree described his first night with Widowmaker wasn’t jealousy. He tells himself it was the sheer disrespect that McCree showed him that made him press his knife to the prisoner’s throat.

 

He sits alone in his cabin, drinking a small glass of rum and staring at the maps laid out on the desk before him. He knows the need to sail east, and he will get further information from McCree later, when he finishes his tale.

 

When Hanzo can stand to hear him finish the tale.

 

He throws the glass furiously at the wall.  _ What _ is wrong with him?

 

Genji opens the door and stares at the mess. “What are you doing, brother?” he asks.

 

“Plotting our course,” Hanzo replies tersely. Genji is the last person he wants to see right now.

 

“Is throwing the glass against the wall a vital part of plotting the course, Hanzo?”

 

“Get  _ out _ , Genji.”

 

Genji shrugs. “I was merely coming to tell you that McCree has picked the lock on his door and is walking about the deck.”

 

Hanzo is starting to get a headache. He growls, incensed, and Genji disappears. Hanzo reaches for his pistol and sword, and heads out onto the deck. It is late, the sun dipping below the horizon, streaking the sky orange. 

 

It is easy to spot McCree. Hanzo’s crew are watching him but haven’t approached him. He doesn’t look like a threat, which is possibly why. His shirt still flaps open, revealing his torso. He has crossed to the bow, staring out at the waves.

 

Hanzo crosses to him silently. When he is within touching distance, he pauses for a second. McCree is slightly taller than he is, and he takes a moment to look up at the back of his prisoner’s head. His brown hair is tangled. It blows loose in the breeze.

 

There is a blur, and then a pistol pressed against his forehead. McCree looks down at him with those soft eyes.

 

“My reputation didn’t warn you not to try to sneak up on me, Shimada?” he asks with a tiny grin.

 

“I am not afraid of you,” Hanzo replies. This is the truth.

 

McCree cocks the pistol. “Nor am I afraid of you.” This is clearly not the truth.

 

“You should be,” Hanzo murmurs, never looking away from McCree’s gentle eyes. “You should be far more afraid than you apparently are.”

 

Hanzo isn’t sure what McCree is actually doing. What does he hope to achieve with this plan? McCree seems to think the same thing, because he grins broadly and lowers the pistol.

 

Hanzo wraps his hand around his prisoner’s wrist and twists it behind him with ease, bringing McCree to his knees. There is real fear in McCree’s eyes then and Hanzo feels a gratifying surge of power as he glares down at him.

 

“Untying you was clearly an error,” Hanzo growls. “One we can easily rectify.”

 

*

_ Five years earlier _

 

“Jesse, let me tell you a story,” the woman purrs.

 

They have just finished making love. In the cold light of the room, her skin glows almost blue. He stares at this strange woman with real interest. This is truly turning into an excellent evening.

 

“Have you heard of the festival of Tanabata?” she asks.

 

He rolls onto his side to face her, props his head up on one hand. Her eyes are glowing. “I have not.”

 

“ It celebrates the love of the deities Orihime and Hikoboshi. According to legend, she was a weaver, and he a cow herder. Orihime was the daughter of the Tentei, the universe itself. He arranged for her to meet Hikoboshi, and the pair fell in love.” The woman’s eyes flutter closed. “But they lived on opposite sides of the Amanogawa- the heavenly river.”

 

“You’re talking about stars,” Jesse realises aloud.

 

“Yes.” The woman gives Jesse a beautiful smile. “In the legend, the two couldn’t meet because of the Tentei’s fury once they married and neglected their duties, and once a year a flock of magpies build a bridge to allow them to meet.”

 

“That’s a beautiful story, darlin’.”

 

“What if it isn’t merely a story? What if I told you that the heavenly river isn’t simply a place in the stars, in legends?”

 

Jesse chuckled. “I’d say I’ve heard stranger things, miss.”

 

“There’s treasure there,” the woman announces. She leans closer to Jesse, her face alive with excitement. “Treasure beyond belief.”

 

Jesse realises what they are doing here with a jolt. He moves back from her. “So did you seduce me in order to help persuade me, or…?”

 

“I seduced you because I wanted to, Captain,” she replies, trailing her cold fingers through his beard. “I do want you to take me to the heavenly river, though. I know the way.”

 

_ Treasure beyond belief. _ The whole thing sounds ridiculous, but the woman’s green eyes are appealing to him. He owes his crew some treasure. They need an adventure. He finds himself nodding.

 

“Excellent. We shall leave tomorrow,” she announces.

 

“What do I call you?” he asks.

 

“Amélie Lacroix,” she replies.

 

He draws back from her. “Widowmaker,” he breathes.

 

Her smile is proud. “Fret not, Captain. As far as I am aware, you do not have a wife, no?”

 

*

 

McCree is dragged by the captain. He expects to be taken back into the room he started in but, to his surprise, he is shoved into what must be Shimada’s own quarters. It is grand and beautiful, delicately fragranced. Maps are scattered across a desk. There is smashed glass upon the floor.

 

“What-?” he begins, but he is thrown down upon the bed. He lands on his front and finds himself breathing in the scent of the blankets. It is spicy and delicious.

 

Hanzo reaches beneath the bed and produces a length of silky rope. McCree struggles to turn over and Hanzo grabs his wrists, sitting astride him once more. The intensity of his gaze is enough to make McCree go still.

 

“Why do you have rope beneath your bed, Hanzo?” he breathes, a pleasant realisation coming over him.

 

Shimada startles him by slapping him across the face. It is hard, and Jesse cries out.

 

“You are to address me as Captain Shimada.”

 

Jesse doesn’t respond, doesn’t look at him, as he begins to restrain him to the bed. His face is stinging, and so is his pride, but there is something incredibly appealing about this situation. For all Shimada’s firmness, this is clearly his sort of situation, too- otherwise, why would he keep rope beneath his bed?

 

Jesse is becoming aroused. Fuck.

 

“Why did you pick the lock? What did you hope to achieve?” Shimada is genuinely furious. He’s terrifying. Jesse is scared and aroused and isn’t sure what the right answer is.

 

“I was bored,” he says, and that’s pretty much the truth.

 

“You’re an idiot,” Shimada spits. “A bloody idiot with a deathwish.”

 

“A deathwish?” Jesse considers this. “Perhaps. I dunno about death, but I might certainly have wished for this.”

 

“For this?” Shimada has gone very still, staring down at Jesse.

 

Jesse remembers Shimada’s blade at his throat before and is aware that he may not survive another encounter like that one. He cannot be lying here dreaming of fucking his captor. He is here to bring Shimada down. He needs to focus.

 

“I’ll help you,” he announces. He tries to make his face look as innocent as possible. “I’ll help you find the heavenly river, Cap’n Shimada.”

 

As he expects, Hanzo could not look more suspicious. He scowls down at him. “Why have you changed your mind?”

 

McCree shrugs. “Boredom, I suppose. And you did save me from the Navy. I guess I owe you one.” He grins. “You won’t be able to get the treasure, anyway.”

 

“Why not?” demands Shimada.

 

“Because it requires a lover’s sacrifice. And unless I’m very mistaken, you don’t  _ have _ a lover.”

 

“What makes you say that?” growls Hanzo.

 

McCree can’t help himself. “Because if you were  _ my _ lover, I’d be a bit uncomfortable with you tyin’ strange and handsome men to your bed.”

 

Shimada goes pink and leaps up off the bed. “Stop doing that,” he orders.

 

“What?”

 

“That… that flirting thing you are doing,” Shimada frowns. “It won’t work on me.”

 

McCree can’t stop himself laughing. “Well, I ain’t never heard that before, Cap’n.”

 

“I find that hard to believe,” Shimada returns coldly.

 

“Regardless, without a lover....” McCree shrugs. “You can’t get the treasure.”

 

Hanzo Shimada looks thoughtfully at the maps on his desk. “I shall simply have to take a lover then.” The words are brisk and matter of fact.

 

“I’m lyin’ right here, Cap’n.”

 

Hanzo’s dark eyes flicker over Jesse’s helpless form and McCree could swear for a moment that there is attraction there, burning in his gaze.

 

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Shimada finally replies.

 

“Girls only, is that it?” McCree sighs.

 

To his surprise, Shimada gives him a small smile. “Men exclusively, Captain McCree.”

 

“Oh.” McCree wriggles, trying to get comfortable. “Well, anyway, when they want a lover they don’t just mean a  _ lover _ … you have to be in love. That’s where I fucked up last time.” McCree isn’t sure why he is telling Shimada this. He has no intention of taking him to the heavenly river. Morrison and his men will be meeting them at the next port to pick them up after McCree puts Shimada out of action.

 

“You were not in love with Widowmaker?” Is that a hint of  _ jealousy _ in Hanzo’s voice?

 

“Oh, no.” McCree closes his eyes. “I was in love with her. Utterly. Absolutely. It’s just that she wasn’t in love with me. Not even a little bit.”

 

Hanzo Shimada’s eyes widen as he stares down at McCree. “It was Widowmaker who stabbed you, was it not?”

  
“A lover’s sacrifice,” McCree nods. “The bitch.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, commenting and generally being awesome.
> 
> It's still not proofread so apologies for any silly mistakes :)


	5. V

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: here there is angst, plot and smut.

The HMS Blackwatch leaves port about two hours after Reyes receives word that  _ all _ of McCree’s crew have escaped aboard the High Noon.

 

Reyes is annoyed. Angry. Furious. How has this happened? His men can sense his ire, and avoid him, leaving him alone to contemplate the empty horizon. McCree is supposed to lead Hanzo Shimada to Port Dais within the next week. It is only a two-day journey, so the Blackwatch wasn’t supposed to set off for another day or so.

 

He thinks of Lena Oxton’s defiant little face and knows that she will find Jesse McCree. He dreads to think what will happen if she leads McCree’s crew to the Twin Dragons. With any luck, they’ll all kill each other, but that seems unlikely to happen.

 

Jack Morrison comes to stand by him. The two men share a long look. They have known each other for many years. What is between them is unspoken, but obvious to both. Morrison kissed him once, one Christmas many years ago when they had both consumed a lot of rum, but they have never spoken of it.

 

“Sir, everything is going smoothly. Don’t worry.”

 

“I’m hardly worrying, Morrison.”

 

Morrison’s lips twitch. “With respect, Commodore, your brow is rather furrowed.”

 

“Furrowed,” Reyes repeats.

 

“Yes, Sir. Perhaps you should rest? I can ensure things go well.”

 

Reyes claps him on the shoulder. This is the extent of the physical contact he allows himself to have with Morrison. “Thank you.”

 

He goes to the captain’s cabin, and his body is exhausted. He isn’t sure that this was the wisest plan he has ever concocted, but regardless, he has to find a way to make it work.

 

When he opens the door, he is rather surprised to find an absolutely naked woman reclining on his bed. Her long black hair tumbles loosely around a beautiful face, and her green eyes glow as she smiles at him. He draws his pistol.

 

“Commodore Reyes,” she purrs, in a French accent. “Do you know who I am?”

 

The French accent, the beauty, the air of danger around her… he does know. This woman is rather close to the top of a lot of most wanted lists. “Widowmaker,” he replies.

 

“I have a deal for you,” she says, running one hand down her own hip seductively.

 

“That won’t work on me,” Reyes says blandly.

 

She frowns, then relaxes her posture. “I see.”

 

“Are you turning yourself in?”

 

She laughs. “Don’t be boring, Reyes.”

 

“Why are you prepared to sell your body to get your own way?” he asks, with genuine interest. Now that she knows he isn’t interested, she is all business, cold and haughty.

 

“Sell my body?” She laughs again. “Please. I’m not above using whatever I can to get ahead in this world, Reyes. You men are all the same.” She pauses. “Except, apparently, you. Is it men?”

 

Reyes doesn’t reply. He closes the door behind him and wonders for a moment what is wrong with him. Why does he want to hear her offer? He should be clapping irons on her and having her hauled to the brig.

 

“Tell me,” Widowmaker says, “are you bored of never winning against these pirates, Reyes?”

 

*

 

McCree wakes up with a start. It is dark, and the cabin is lit by a single candle. Captain Shimada is sat at the desk, the light flickering across his handsome face. He pores over papers, singing beneath his breath to himself.

 

He is so fucking handsome.

 

“What you singin’, Cap’n?” Jesse murmurs softly.

 

Shimada starts as if he has been shot, leaping up and reaching for the pistol on the desk. He stops and looks at Jesse with an inscrutable frown.

 

“Apologies, McCree,” he says in a rough voice. The words surprise Jesse. “I did not mean to wake you.”

 

He seems to be in a gentle mood. Jesse bites his lip, wondering how far he can push his luck. “You’ve woken all of me except my arms. They’re gettin’ a bit numb tied up like this, Shimada. Can you untie me for a bit? I promise I’ll stay still.”

 

Shimada’s eyes travel to his pistol then back to McCree. He inclines his head and crosses to the bed, kneeling by him again to slide his dagger through the rope.

 

“Thanks,” McCree says, rubbing at his tingling wrists again.

 

To his further surprise, Hanzo Shimada reaches for the wrists and takes them in his own strong, warm hands, rubbing them gently.

 

“I apologise,” he says again. “I require your help. I do not need to treat you so roughly.”

 

“Shimada,” Jesse begins, but he isn’t sure what else there is to say. He is captivated by this man. His captor has his head lowered, his eyes fixed on Jesse’s wrists.

 

“Call me Hanzo.” The words are murmured without Shimada looking up.

 

Jesse quirks a brow. “It was all ‘Call me Cap’n Shimada’ before, Shimada. You’re a fickle man.”

 

“I am. Don’t forget that.” Shimada tightens his hands momentarily around McCree’s wrists and flashes him a grin that can only be described as  _ wicked _ .

 

For a moment, they aren't enemies. They aren't captor and captive. They are simply two lonely men who desire each other. McCree bites his lip and looks into Hanzo’s face.

 

“I want you,” Jesse admits.

 

“You have not been subtle about it,” Hanzo replies, the wicked grin still there.

 

“You want me, too.” McCree tries to make the words sound certain, but there is a question there.

 

“I do.” Shimada bends down and presses his mouth against Jesse’s, kissing him with agonising slowness. His mouth tastes of tea and rum. Jesse frees one of his hands from Hanzo’s grip and reaches up to trail his fingers along the silver at his temple.

 

Hanzo slides one leg over Jesse’s waist so he is sitting atop his lap, clutching at his open shirt as he devours his mouth. There is no encouraging Shimada to increase the pace of the kiss. Jesse moans into his mouth, helpless.

 

He can't do this. Or, at least, he really shouldn't. He catalogues the reasons as Hanzo explores his lips. Firstly, he needs to betray this pirate to save his crew, and this is a distraction from that- albeit a pleasant one. Secondly, despite his reputation, Jesse McCree isn't exactly skilled at loving and leaving. He tends to stay longer than he should, long after it starts to hurt. Thirdly, Hanzo Shimada is the most dangerous thing he has ever touched.

 

Finally, a small part of him wonders if there is something soft lurking beneath Hanzo's steely exterior, something Jesse has the unwanted power to hurt.

 

Then Hanzo trails his fingertips down Jesse’s chest, towards his stomach and then across the top of his trousers, and he forgets all of his arguments against this.

 

“Fuck,” he mumbles into Hanzo's mouth, and his captor chuckles darkly.

 

“Do you want me to touch you, Jesse?” murmurs Hanzo against his lips.

 

“ _ Dios mio, sí, _ ” whimpers Jesse. “Yes. Fuck. Yes.”

 

His trousers are pulled back with deft, strong fingers, which then curl around his length. The touch is sudden and firm, and he blushes at the noise he chokes out. Taking this noise as encouragement, Hanzo begins to move his hand up and down.

 

“I won't last long if y’keep doin’ that, Hanzo.” He breathes the words.

 

Hanzo makes a thoughtful noise but continues, apparently fine with this.

 

Through the fog of arousal, McCree knows he wants to make Hanzo satisfied, too. He makes himself reach for his captor’s trousers, but his hands are pushed firmly away by Hanzo’s free one.

 

“Be still,” Hanzo says firmly.

 

Jesse closes his eyes and allows his head to fall back, moaning. Waves of pleasure rock through him and he shudders beneath Hanzo's touch. As his orgasm builds, he cries out.

 

“ _ Han… _ !”

 

His hips jerk as he explodes in Hanzo’s hands and he is blinded by ecstasy for a long moment.

 

He comes back to reality slowly. Hanzo is murmuring to him in Japanese, stroking his hair. McCree blinks up at him, surprised at this tender display.

 

“You did well,” Hanzo praises.

 

“Let me…” Jesse reaches again for Hanzo's obvious erection but is pushed back.

 

Hanzo moves, so that he is lying beside Jesse, pulling the taller man over so that his head rests of the broad, muscled expanse of Hanzo’s chest. “There will be other nights, Jesse.”

  
McCree doubts that, with a sorrow he could have predicted he would feel. He swallows. The sweat from their encounter is still damp on his skin as he says into Hanzo's chest, “The map to the heavenly river is in Port Dais. We'll need to head there.” He forces himself to think of his crew but is unable to stop a single tear escaping.


	6. VI

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks and much love to everyone who is reading my ramblings!
> 
> Still not proofread so apologies for any mistakes that slipped the net.

Jesse McCree is lying to him.

 

Hanzo watches him with wary eyes. The other pirate captain stands beside him at the helm, squinting out at the approaching port from beneath his stupid hat with a too-bright smile.

 

It is a chilly morning. Hanzo's bare arms are cool. Jesse is wrapped up in his serape. Hanzo has a foolish urge to grab him by it, drag him back to his cabin and demand to know what on earth is going on.

 

When they woke up next to each other this morning, something had changed. McCree was grinning, but it didn't meet his eyes. Whatever it was that drew them together last night is gone.

 

“So the plan is pretty simple. I left my things with a tavern girl. You and I can go and collect them and be back to the ship within the hour.” McCree is babbling away.

 

There is no tavern girl. Hanzo wonders what is going on. He wonders if McCree's silver tongue works better on other people.

 

That said, it certainly worked last night, didn't it?

 

They dock, and Hanzo leaves McCree for a second to approach Genji, who isn't scowling for once.

 

“I may be back with trouble,” Hanzo says. “Be prepared for a quick escape.”

 

Genji nods. “Always am.”

 

Hanzo claps him on the shoulder and returns to his traitorous lover. He has collected his bow and Jesse eyes it warily.

 

“You probably won't need that, Hanzo,” he says.

 

Hanzo frowns at him, unable to keep his displeasure out of his voice. “Allow me to be the judge of that, Captain McCree.”

 

McCree visibly bristles at his tone but continues his inane grinning and leads him from the ship. It is a damp morning and the streets are quiet. As always, Hanzo draws a fair bit of attention, but he is focused entirely on the tall man who is presumably leading him to his death. Or attempting to.

 

They reach a tavern- The Panorama, according to the peeling sign- and Jesse leads him in a side door, which leads straight to the narrow stairs. Hanzo follows him, heart in his throat, entire body tense.

 

Jesse opens a door to a very ordinary bedroom and the two men enter. There is nothing dangerous in here, and for a moment Hanzo wonders if he was wrong.

 

He is wrong. The only dangerous thing in here is Jesse McCree.

 

The two men twitch at the same moment, and Hanzo has his bow in one hand, an arrow in the other, aiming at the man he touched so intimately last night.

 

Jesse McCree is clutching his pistol, aiming it right between Hanzo's eyes. Hanzo remembers an old nickname of McCree's, one he hasn't heard in years.  _ Deadeye. _

 

“I'm sorry,” McCree says, and these are the first honest words he has uttered all day. “I had to.”

 

“You didn't  _ have _ to do anything,” Hanzo spits.

 

“They have my crew. They were goin’ to hang them, Hanzo.” There is a pleading note in McCree's voice now. Beneath his hat, his eyes burn with intensity.

 

“I would have helped you.” Hanzo doesn't realise the words are true until he has said them.

 

McCree smiles without humour. “If it makes you feel any better, I had no idea how I would feel about you.”

 

“Don't.” Hanzo grinds out the word. The arrow strains against the bow string. He is so tempted to release it. He wonders if the arrow would hit Jesse before he could shoot, and doubts it.

 

The door opens, and they both look at it, neither moving their weapons. Whoever McCree expects to see standing there, it isn't the woman who walks in.

 

“What the fuck-?” he says, staring down the barrel on the rifle she is pointing at him.

 

“Hello, darling,” she says gently, glancing at Hanzo. “Captain Shimada, I presume.”

 

Hanzo can have a guess who this beautiful, deadly creature is. He watches McCree. Jesse has his mouth open, staring at her. A ridiculous flare of jealousy burns through Hanzo.

 

“Where's Reyes?” McCree asks.

 

Of course. Commodore Reyes. Hanzo knows the name.

 

“I'm here.” A man steps out of the shadows from behind Widowmaker, pointing a pistol at Hanzo.

 

“Reyes, are you insane? Are you seriously working with this woman?” McCree chokes.

 

“I don't recall you putting up much resistance to working with me last time, sweetheart,” Widowmaker says softly.

 

“You left me for dead, you bitch.” Jesse growls the words out.

 

Hanzo wonders if he should try to shoot an arrow at either Widowmaker or Reyes. He is convinced that he is pointing his weapon at the wrong person right now… although there is definitely going to be a time to point it back at Jesse, the traitorous snake.

 

As though reading his mind, McCree turns his gun suddenly to Widowmaker. “I don't know how you managed to persuade Reyes to work with you, Amélie. It ain't goin’ to work on me a second time.”

 

She smiles. “What makes you think that's what I want?”

 

“You're going back to the heavenly river, aren't you?” Jesse asks. “How did you persuade Commodore Reyes to go? He doesn't strike me as the treasure hunter type. No offence,” he adds to the Commodore.

 

“There's more going on here than you know,” Reyes says.

 

“You don't know everything about the heavenly river,” Widowmaker says. “The treasure that's there…”

 

“I'm not going back there for all the silver and gold in the ocean, Am.”

 

“I'm not asking you to.”

 

McCree frowns. “You'll need me.”

 

She laughs. “I don't need you, Jesse. If you recall, I never did. I need him.”

 

Suddenly, all eyes are on Hanzo. He scowls at them all. “What?” He's utterly confused. His arm is aching from holding his bow ready so long.

 

“The power of the dragons,” Widowmaker murmurs, her bright eyes staring into him hungrily.

 

Hanzo laughs. He remembers the stories from his childhood. “That's a myth,” he tells her.

 

“None of you understand. Come with me, Captain Shimada. Let me show you things you can't even imagine.”

 

“Surely Reyes merely wishes to hang me?” Hanzo asks, glancing at the Commodore.

 

Reyes has moved his gun. It is now pointing at Jesse, bringing the total number of weapons pointing at the captain of the High Noon to three. “I did wish to hang you. Now I need you.”

 

“What about me?” McCree grinds out, glancing between them all. “Our deal?”

 

“Your crew escaped,” Reyes replies. “Our deal is done.”

 

McCree looks at Hanzo for a second, and it is clear he is looking to see if he has an ally there.

 

“In that case, I'll just be leavin’ then,” he says, with a light, casual tone. “Nice to see you again, Am, good luck with the doomed treasure hunt. Reyes, nice to see you ain't as boring as I first suspected.” His eyes find Hanzo's. “Han, darlin’, sorry about the betrayal. Have fun with these maniacs.”

 

He lowers his gun and takes a step towards the door.

 

“I think not,” Widowmaker says, hands visibly tensing around her weapon. “I can't have you getting in my way, Jesse. Goodbye.”

 

As Hanzo turns his bow to her instinctively, an explosion shakes the building. The ground moves, Hanzo loses his footing, and the arrow goes wide of its mark. Widowmaker and Reyes have both fallen, and he realises part of the floor has disappeared.

 

“Jesse!” he roars.

 

It is growing hot. Jesse is on the floor, near the burning hole. “Han, I've been shot.”

 

He has. There is a dark stain on his serape, spreading from his shoulder. Widowmaker was aiming to kill, and the sudden jolt of the building only made her miss by an inch or so.

 

“Get up, you idiot,” Hanzo says. “We have to get out of here.” He tugs McCree to his feet. The other pirate is still standing, albeit shakily, for now.

 

“The door!” McCree shouts. Hanzo turns to see Widowmaker reappear, her cheeks smudged with soot and blood, raising her gun again.

 

“The window,” Hanzo replies in Jesse's ear, dragging him towards it and then through it. The glass shatters and some embeds itself in his bare shoulders and hands. He lands on top of Jesse, who groans in a very painful but  _ alive  _ sort of way. Hanzo twists back, aiming an arrow at the window, but she isn't there.

 

“We have to go,” he tells McCree, and it occurs to him for a second to simply leave silver-tongued Jesse McCree to bleed out on the ground.

 

But he can't.

 

He tugs Jesse to his feet again and they stare at each other for a moment. McCree is pale. He opens his mouth to speak.

 

“Get away from him!”

 

They both turn to see a small woman dressed in men's clothes. She is pointing two pistols at Hanzo.

 

“Lena!” McCree says. His voice is weak. “Put the guns down.”

 

“Down? But that's Hanzo Shimada, Jesse.”

 

“He just saved my life, Lena,” Jesse says softly. As if to demonstrate, he reaches out and wraps his hand around Hanzo's wrist. He may be appearing confident to his friend, but his fingers are shaking. Hanzo suspects he is terrified of the wrath he has brought upon himself with his betrayal.

 

“We just saved your life, you bloody idiot,” Lena snaps, but she lowers the guns.

 

Jesse is smiling. “Only you lot would think blowin’ up a building with me inside it was savin’ me. Worst crew ever.” Then he faints. It is sudden and dramatic, his not inconsiderable bulk hitting the ground with a loud thud.

 

Hanzo and Lena eye each other warily.

 

“They'll be coming for us,” Hanzo tells her. “Reyes and Widowmaker. We need to get him back to my ship- the Twin Dragons.”

  
She raises her eyebrows. “Captain Shimada… the Twin Dragons has already left port.”


	7. VII

_ A year earlier _

 

Hanzo Shimada can't sleep on dry land. He is irritable as he dresses for the day, his eyes stinging. Perhaps it is merely that he was no longer able to sleep in Hanamura.

 

There is a knock at his bedroom door, and he opens it to reveal Genji, who looks similarly out of sorts. His hair sticks up around his face, giving him the look of an adorable child.

 

“What do you imagine he wants?” Genji asks, by way of greeting.

 

Hanzo frowns but steps aside so that his brother can enter. “I am unsure.” He closes the door behind Genji. “It must be important.”

 

Genji lifts a katana from a shelf and examines the intricate blade. He makes an appreciative hum. “Do you think he wishes us to move back to Hanamura?”

 

Hanzo has noticed that Genji never refers to Hanamura as  _ home _ . “I doubt it,” he says. “We are supplying the family with an incredible amount of gold.”

 

Genji looks at Hanzo. His sprite-like features are twisted. “Should we supply them with anything?”

 

Hanzo manages to keep his expression neutral, but there is a sudden, cramping tightness in his stomach as he looks at his little brother. This sort of talk is tantamount to a death sentence. “Genji, don't,” he says firmly.

 

Genji laughs then, and it almost sounds genuine. “Of course. Sorry.”

 

Some rift has opened between them. Hanzo doesn't know how to close it, and stands helplessly as Genji walks back to him, to the door, and leaves him alone.

 

Hanzo sinks onto his bed, covering his aching eyes with the palms of his hands. He supposes Genji feeling this way isn't a new development; however, it is the first time Hanzo has acknowledged it. It is death to betray the family. They all know it. Genji will be especially badly treated, given his position as son of the family's head.

 

The best thing to do is to try to protect Genji. If Hanzo merely refuses to talk about it, he will have nobody to air these thoughts to, and they will burn out. Hanzo wonders if this is why everyone in the family is so insular and secretive.

 

Finally, he peels himself from the bed and leaves his room, heading to the main hall. The castle is always cool, despite the temperate weather outside. The light hairs on Hanzo's arms stand on end, his dragons rising in goosebumps.

 

When he reaches the main hall, Genji greets him at the door with a low, respectful now. Hanzo is gripped by an insane desire to embrace Genji, to tell him that everything will work out. Instead, he nods at his brother.

 

Inside, Sojiro Shimada sits waiting for his two sons. For Hanzo, looking at their father is like looking in a mirror. They share the same serious, dark eyes and hard faces. They are both brutal and ruthless in their pursuit of what they want. Hanzo can't remember if he was born this way, or if he's simply emulated his father for so long that he has become this way.

 

“My sons,” Sojiro says. “You look well. Piracy clearly suits you.”

 

“Indeed, Father,” Hanzo replies. “You also look well.”

 

Sojiro raises a grey eyebrow at his oldest son. “I am dying.”

 

Hanzo blinks. This is what he has trained for all his life. Taking over the family, managing all of the trading and the production and the money… this has been the moment everything has been leading to. A bitter taste rises up his throat and he realises he doesn't want this. But there is no choice.

 

“Dying?” Genji asks, and it is the first time Hanzo has heard him speak in their native tongue for over a year. “Can nothing be done?”

 

“More time can be bought,” Sojiro replies, looking at his younger son. “There is no immediate risk.” His dark, unforgiving eyes move back to Hanzo. “Time enough for one last treasure hunt before you retire from piracy.”

 

Retirement from piracy seems like the most forbidding future he can think of, but Hanzo inclines his head. “There is a destination you have in mind?”

 

“Orihime’s river,” Sojiro replies seriously. “You remember the stories? There is a vast and impossible treasure to be found.”

 

“If it exists, I will find it,” Hanzo swears. He looks at the ornate dragons carved around the room, then down at the ones that trail over his arms, and swallows down bile.

 

*

 

Hanzo wakes up with sore eyes. It is nighttime, and Jesse McCree's cabin is bathed in silver moonlight. Hanzo's legs ache from sleeping curled up on a chair. He unfolds them and crosses over to the bed gingerly.

 

McCree lies unconscious. The moonlight robs his usually golden skin of its brightness, rendering him pale.

 

Now that the urgency of their fight and escape is over, Hanzo expects to feel angry at his betrayal. He feels like anger has been his primary emotion for as long as he can remember, but it isn't anger he is tasting right now. He remembers the taste of McCree's kiss, the way his warm eyes widened when Hanzo touched him. He thinks about the spark of hope McCree ignited in him for the first time in his life, and he feels sorrow.

 

He ghosts his hand across Jesse's forehead, checking that he doesn't have a fever. There are few things he wouldn't give to go back in time to the previous night, to relive those ill-fated intimacies once more.

 

Satisfied that McCree isn't going to die anytime soon, Hanzo returns to his vigil in the chair, tenting his fingers beneath his chin as he stares at Jesse. He finds himself in quite a predicament now.

 

He had scrabbled aboard the High Noon with Jesse on his back without considering it too much, but now that they are at sea he realises he is without a plan. He is going to need McCree's help.

 

He hates the thought of relying on anyone, especially now. Genji is the only person he has trusted fully, and his brother has betrayed that. Hanzo tries to understand what might have caused Genji to stage a mutiny against his own brother, and, worse, to do it in such a cowardly way.

 

At a loss, he assesses his situation. He makes a mental inventory of what he has. There's the bloodied shirt he is wearing, covered in Jesse's blood. His trousers and boots are largely clean. He has a bow, his sword, a small dagger and a quiver of arrows. He begins to empty the quiver, to count his arrows, and a small piece of paper falls into his lap.

 

His heart makes a sick lurch in his chest as he lifts it and unfolds it. The writing is a mixture of hiragana, katakana and kanji, with the odd English word thrown in.  _ Genji. _

 

_ My brother, _

 

_ I imagine that you are filled with rage towards me. I apologise for what I have done, but my reason is pure. I can no longer allow our family to reign as tyrants, and I intend to do what I should have done many years ago. I cannot ask you, the future leader of the family, to follow me. _

 

_ There was truth in the story of the power of the dragons. I discovered this the day I accepted the truth about our family. _

 

_ Forgive me. _

 

Hanzo closes his eyes. What he is holding is, essentially, his brother's death warrant.

 

All those years of trying to ignore Genji's feelings caused this. There are angry, heartbroken tears in Hanzo's eyes.

 

He needs to get to Genji before his brother does anything foolish. And for that, he is going to need McCree.

 

The door opens and the small pirate named Lena enters. She doesn't trust Hanzo; her tense body language and the way she keeps her fingers close to her pistols are not subtle. She watches him warily as she crosses to her captain.

 

“Has he stirred?” she asks.

 

Hanzo shakes his head. When he speaks, his voice is deep and hoarse from disuse, and it surprises them both. “He has not.”

 

Lena nods at him. “Captain Shimada, perhaps you should get some proper rest? I can easily find you a place to sleep.” She is being kind to him despite his terrible reputation. His position on this ship is unclear: he is a captain, certainly, but of a different crew entirely. He previously kidnapped this crew's captain. They have formed an unlikely bond, but presently McCree is unconscious and therefore cannot explain this to his crew. Despite this, Lena is offering him kindness.

 

“No, but I thank you for the offer. My place is here.”

 

“By Jesse?” There is something in her words that he doesn't understand, but he nods his head.

 

“He betrayed me. The captain and I need to discuss a few things.”

 

Lena sighs. “He thought he was doing the right thing.”

 

“I understand that,” Hanzo replies, and this is true. It doesn't make the hurt any less, nor dull his ridiculous desire to be included in the group of people Jesse McCree is prepared to risk his life for.

 

The small pirate cocks her head and offers him a half-smile. “Well, be gentle on him.”

  
“I cannot promise that.”


	8. VIII

Fuck.

 

Everything hurts as Jesse wakes up. His body aches, and his head throbs. He's lost consciousness a fair few times in his life and it's always like this. Clawing his way back to reality, he winces and remembers. He was shot in the shoulder.

 

Without opening his eyes, he covers his shoulder with his hand, feeling the dressing there. Someone has cleaned the wound. Lena, probably.

 

He opens his eyes and hisses aloud as the light makes his head throb. He's in his own bed, in his cabin on the High Noon. It feels like a year since he was here last, rather than a few weeks.

 

The memories of what happened slowly creep back. Betraying Hanzo… he scowls at himself for that. And after all that, Reyes turned on him anyway. What the hell was going on with him and Amélie? He can't believe that she tried to kill him again.

 

He supposes he's properly ruined things with Hanzo now, then he closes his eyes and groans aloud.  _ Things?  _ There was nothing between them, apart from one lonely night, a kidnapping and a lot of lies. Jesse wonders with a pang if he'll ever see him again.

 

“I see you're awake.” The cold, dangerous words come from across the room, and chill him to the core at the same time as they ignite a hope in him he hasn't felt for a long time. “Good. I'm going to kill you.”

 

“Woah there,” Jesse says, trying to sit up and see him. “Ain't hardly a fair fight when I'm already injured, darlin’.”

 

“I've told you before about speaking to me like that,” Hanzo says with venom in his words, stepping closer to the bed and coming into Jesse's field of vision. He looks furious, his face granite as he stares down at the injured pirate. There is blood on the white wraparound shirt he wears. A lot of blood.

 

“Fuck,” Jesse says, momentarily forgetting their argument as he sees the blood. He tries to reach out for Hanzo but he's still too far away. “What the hell happened to you, Hanzo? Are y’injured?”

 

Hanzo merely continues to look at him like he's the biggest fool on the ocean. “It's  _ your _ blood, McCree.”

 

“Oh.” Jesse leans back against the pillows again, suddenly exhausted. Relief floods through him. “Good.”

 

“ _ Good.”  _ Hanzo repeats the word quietly, taking another step towards the bed. Jesse feels a twinge of fear but he knows he can't do too much about it. “Good? Your stupid plan to betray me nearly killed us both. Your ridiculous crew almost blew us up! You got yourself  _ shot _ !” Hanzo's voice has risen to a shout.

 

“Yeah.” Jesse rubs at his shoulder. It is hurting a lot. His whole arm is stinging. “Could have gone a bit better, I guess.”

 

“How do you  _ survive _ like this?” Hanzo asks, exasperated.

 

McCree meets his furious gaze. Hanzo's dark eyes are burning, and he's clearly wondering if his honour could survive murdering a bedridden, wounded man.

 

“I guess with a lot of rum, to be honest,” Jesse replies.

 

Hanzo roars, turns on his heel and storms out.

 

Jesse closes his eyes. 

 

“Good one, Jes,” he mumbles to himself. “You bloody idiot.”

 

He gives into the pain and exhaustion and falls back into glorious unconsciousness.

 

Some time later, he wakes up to Lena changing his dressing. She glares down at him.

 

“What’d I do?” he says. His voice comes out in a dry croak.

 

She scowls further but gives him a streaked glass of water, which he swallows greedily.

 

“We've got problems,” she says. “A lot of them.”

 

Jesse shrugs, then winces as his shoulder throbs at the movement. “What's new?”

 

She frowns. “Something big’s happening, Jesse.”

 

He nods. She's definitely right. He is confused on the details, but they are caught up in something they really need to get out of.

 

“Why’s Shimada still here?” he asks.

 

Lena raises an eyebrow. “His brother took his ship and crew. Abandoned him with you.”

 

“No wonder he was so angry with me before. He must be feelin’ pretty low.” Jesse feels bad for provoking Hanzo. He wishes he was strong enough to go and find him.

 

“I don't know how you managed to charm Hanzo Shimada of all people, but you did. He carried you all the way back down here on his back after you lost consciousness. He got the crew in order and got us underway while I cleaned you up, but then he sat with you until you woke up.” She's giving Jesse a very intense look. “Which, incidentally, was almost twenty eight hours later.”

 

Jesse feels a rush of shame. “... Oh.” There's something else there, too: more hope. “I should probably go and find him. Apologise for bein’ so rude. And, y’know, the betrayal thing.”

 

Lena places a firm hand on his good shoulder. “Don't be ridiculous. You can't get out that bed. You've lost so much blood.”

 

“Will y’send him to me, then?”

 

Lena regards him quizzically. “Oh, no. No. You've got… you're soft on Hanzo Shimada, aren't you?”

 

Jesse blushes. “Don't be ridiculous, darlin’. That man is a dangerous, cruel killer.”

 

“Sounds like just your type then.” She sighs. “I'll get him for you. Don't provoke him. Right now, he could definitely kill you.”

 

“Noted. Thanks, Lena.”

 

She leaves, and minutes later Hanzo is back. He closes the door behind him and stands facing Jesse with his arms folded.

 

“So… I guess I should apologise.”

 

“You are lucky I haven't killed you yet,” Shimada replies through clenched teeth.

 

“Look, I'm sorry.” McCree's mouth starts to run away from his brain, as it so often does. “I had to save my crew. I would sacrifice anythin’ for them. All I knew about you before all this was that you're notorious and cruel.”

 

“So betraying me was acceptable?” Hanzo grinds out.

 

“I ain't sayin’ that, Hanzo. Although you did kidnap me.”

 

“I wasn't unkind to you.” Hanzo glares at him. “I was honest to you. I needed you.” The final words hang in the air for a moment.

 

“That doesn't make it a good thing to do!” McCree replies, his voice rising. “And some people might describe being tied to your bed as 'unkind’, actually.”

 

A strange gleam has come into Hanzo's eyes. “Why do I suspect you would not be one of them?” He takes a predatory step closer to McCree.

 

McCree raises a panicked hand. “Hold up there.” While he's not unamenable to being seduced again in this way, there is nothing seductive about Hanzo's current manner. It is cold and cruel, covering a lot of anger. Right now, McCree would only be a victim of Hanzo's anger. That isn't an unappealing idea (damn his dangerous tastes) but it isn't a wise one.

 

Hanzo does stop, but his face doesn't change. His next words are as chilling as they are arousing. “I rather like it when you're helpless.”

 

McCree doesn't know what to say. He knows his face is flaming and he blinks, looking at the blanket and worrying a loose thread with trembling fingers.

 

“I heard about Genji,” he says finally.

 

He hears Hanzo sigh. When Jesse looks up, the sensual predator of moments ago is gone, replaced by yet another version of the man he is growing so fond of. “I had no idea he was capable of…”

 

“I'm sorry. Family shouldn't be that way.” McCree pauses, hesitant to reveal his next vulnerability, but it comes slipping out. “Not that I'd know.”

 

Hanzo opens his mouth, then closes it. “I don't think I come from a normal sort of family, so I'm hardly an expert,” he says quietly.

 

They look at each other for a long time. Jesse wants to question him,  _ know _ everything about this man, crawl under his skin and discover the secret things Hanzo hides from the world.

  
“I need your help,” Hanzo says finally.


	9. IX

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Expect slightly more infrequent updates over the next few days, chickens. I'm celebrating my birthday this weekend.
> 
> Much love always for your support.
> 
> I started a Tumblr to faff about on (xo-hanzo.tumblr.com) so you can follow me over there if you want to make me a happy egg.

“What help can I possibly offer you?”

 

McCree is looking at him with what can only be described as  _ admiration  _ on his face. Hanzo stares back. He has done nothing to deserve this from McCree, and while he can't forgive the traitorous man quite yet, he is a little humbled by Jesse's willingness to put up with him.

 

“I need someone to help me claim my ship back from my brother.” The implications of his own words make Hanzo frown slightly. Genji has betrayed him. The only person in the world he has ever trusted has turned on him.

 

McCree thinks about this. His warm, amber eyes are distant. “It's my fault you lost your ship. Were it up to just me, I'd follow Genji in a heartbeat for you. We got to check with my crew first though, Hanzo.”

 

There's something about the way his name sounds in Jesse McCree's languid tones that makes Hanzo feel unusually warm. He thinks briefly about the way Jesse felt beneath his fingers, the way the confident, talkative captain came apart beneath his hands. Hanzo wishes for a moment that things were different, that the big betrayal had never happened.

 

“You're the captain,” he says. “Why do you need to check with the crew?”

 

Jesse shuffles, rubbing his shoulder with a wince. “That's just our way. I know it's hard for a stranger to understand.”

 

_ A stranger. _ Hanzo feels so lonely for a moment that it blinds him, strangles him. “That's not all,” he says, his voice surprisingly strong.

 

“What else can I do?” McCree asks. “Name it, and if I can do it, it's done. I promise.”

 

Jesse McCree is a good man. Hanzo can trust him with this. He won't laugh. He'll help.

 

“It's something Widowmaker said. The power of the dragons.”

 

There must be something on his face that reveals his inner turmoil, because Jesse pats the space beside him on the bed. The gesture is so simple, so easily offered. Hanzo's first instinct is to refuse.

 

“Han,” Jesse says gently.

 

Hanzo ought to push him away. Nobody has called him something so familiar in years. But the temptation to go to McCree is too strong to resist. He crosses the room and sits down beside McCree, his feet crossed neatly.

 

“The power of the dragons,” McCree says, patting his leg in a casual gesture, as if they were merely discussing the weather. “You said it was a children's story. What is it?”

 

“I'm not convinced it isn't a children's story,” Hanzo says. “What do you know about my history?”

 

McCree whistles. “You're part of the Shimada family. Your father's important in Japan. You're a gifted archer and swordsman.” He grins at Hanzo suddenly, amber eyes glowing. “I've witnessed that.”

 

“You forgot martial artist,” Hanzo says drily. Jesse merely continues grinning at him like a satisfied dog. “My family- my clan- we are renowned assassins. We train early in the deadly arts.”

 

McCree isn't smiling anymore. “How early?”

 

“I was four when it began.” Hanzo frowns. He doesn't like thinking about this. On some level, he recognises that his childhood has shaped the grim path his adult life has taken.

 

“That's horrible.”

 

“I'm the elder son. My duty is to take over as leader when my father dies.” Hanzo has shuffled a little closer to McCree. “He's dying now.”

 

“If you're supposed to be taking over… how come you're out here on the seas?”

 

“I told my father that I wanted to explore the world before settling into my role. I have been able to provide a great deal of wealth to my family through this. But… honestly, I left because I was not sure that I wished to follow a preordained path. Upon my father's death, I will be expected to return home to Hanamura and oversee operations from there. My life as a pirate will end.”

 

Jesse clearly doesn't know what to say about that. He absent-mindedly rubs at his injured shoulder.

 

“The dragons are a Shimada legend. My family tells of an ancient legend about two great dragons brothers: the Dragon of the North Wind, and the Dragon of the South Wind. Together, they upheld balance and harmony in the heavens.   
  
But the two brothers argued over who could better rule their land. Their quarrel turned to rage and their violent struggle darkened the skies, until the Dragon of the South Wind struck down his brother, who fell to earth, shattering the land. The Dragon of the South Wind had triumphed, but as time passed and he realized his solitude, the sweetness of victory turned to ash.” Hanzo pauses and thinks about Genji. His voice has grown heavy with emotion.

 

“Hanzo…” Jesse says. He has hold of Hanzo's hand.   
  
“For years, the bereft dragon's grief threw the world into discord, and he knew only bitterness and sorrow. One day, a stranger called up to the dragon and asked, "O Dragon Lord, why are you so distraught?" The dragon told him, "Seeking power, I killed my brother; but without him, I am lost." The stranger replied, "You have inflicted wounds upon yourself... but now, you must heal. Walk the earth on two feet as I do; find value in humility. Then, you will find peace."   
  
The dragon knelt upon the ground. For the first time he was able to clearly see the world around him, and he became human. The stranger revealed himself as his fallen brother; reunited, the two set out to rebuild what they had once destroyed.” 

 

“I don't understand.” McCree squeezes his fingers.

 

“The legend is that my bloodline is… cursed. Descendants of dragons.” Hanzo chuckles. “When we come of age, we can use this to harness incredible power.”

 

Jesse's mouth is hanging open.

 

“I must say, I've never seen any evidence of it, Jesse.” Hanzo smiles. “Fret not. On my honour, I promise I won't transform into a scaled beast and burn your ship.”

 

“But you've been thinkin’ about it? The story, I mean?”

 

“Genji left me a note. He mentioned it. If a heavenly river can be real… what is stopping a dragon from being real?” Hanzo sighs. His head is starting to ache. “I was twelve years old when they told me this story for the first time. It was when they tattooed me.”

 

“You were twelve when they did this?” McCree runs his free fingers down one of Hanzo's arms, then up again, tracing the blue and gold dragon with the very tips. Hanzo's skin erupts in goosebumps at his touch. Finally, McCree reaches the edge of his bloodied, ruined shirt. “How… how far does it go?”

 

Hanzo rolls his eyes. Things are still to raw between them for him to seriously consider going down this road yet. Delicately, he moves from the bed, crosses to the window.

 

“I think I know why some sort of power like that might be useful,” McCree says, his voice hoarse. “The river… it’s guarded. Almost impossible to get to.”

 

“You got there,” Hanzo says, without looking back at him.

 

“Don’t be so dismissive of my skills. I’m the deadliest man in the world with a pistol.”

 

He’s joking, but the words hang in an oddly heavy way.

 

“That is how you got there? You shot your way in?”

 

“No. Believe it or not, a good deed got us in last time.”

 

Hanzo smiles humorlessly. “A good deed. Well, I can’t remember the last one of those I witnessed. You and I both are steeped in blood and guilt.”

 

“I rather suspect there'll be more of that.”

  
Hanzo nods his agreement. “I need to go to Hanamura.”


	10. X

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Firstly, just a huge thank for all your comments and whatnot. They truly do keep me motivated and make me smile.
> 
> Secondly, a MASSIVE thank you to elliephants for this amazing fanart of chapter two:  
> http://imgur.com/a/1gp2U  
> I cannot describe how gorgeous it is or how happy it made me!
> 
> Thirdly and finally, if there is anyone who is worried about the 'major character death' tag, have a look here:  
> http://archiveofourown.org/comments/111422442
> 
> Much love everyone! It's my birthday!

Hanzo decides he'll never understand McCree's crew.

 

It is the following morning, and in the warm light of dawn, the crew gathers around a large round table to discuss what they are going to do.

 

There is Lena Oxton, who is small and quick and wickedly clever. Hanzo has never sailed with a female pirate before, but he can understand why McCree likes her. She has short hair that always seems to stick up, and a big smile. When Jesse walks in, she leaps up and punches him in a friendly way in his good shoulder, and he responds by ruffling her hair.

 

There is Emily, who isn't even a pirate. She is beautiful, with long red hair and sparkling green eyes. Jesse folds her into a big embrace when he sees her and smiles at her with evident fondness. Hanzo feels a twinge of what could be jealousy and swallows it down.

 

Jamison Fawkes has a long face and big, crazy eyes. When he stands to clap his captain on the shoulder, Hanzo realises he has a wooden leg. He laughs constantly and is carrying about four pistols, despite the fact they are merely meeting to discuss a plan.

 

Mako Rutledge is a mountain of man, with pale blonde hair pulled back from his face. He speaks a lot less than Jamison, and when he does it is in a deep voice.

 

The other crew members stand around the room and they smile and nod at Jesse, who is grinning with the easy relaxation of one who is surrounded by people who clearly adore him.

 

Hanzo thinks he hates McCree in this moment.

 

But then Jesse throws his good arm easily around Hanzo’s shoulders and pulls him into his side. It is a natural, friendly gesture. Hanzo doesn't think anyone has ever touched him like this. He is blushing before he can stop it.

 

“For those of you who ain't had the pleasure yet,” Jesse announces, “this is Captain Hanzo Shimada.”

 

Something odd happens then. Hanzo is surrounded by people, reaching for him not to hurt him, but to welcome him. Clearly, Jesse's approval is enough for these people.

 

Lena squeezes his forearm briefly. “Thanks,” she says to him, but he has no idea what she is thanking him for.

 

Emily kisses his cheek, which makes him blush even more.

 

“Thanks for kidnapping McCree for a while,” Jamison says brightly, and Hanzo can't place his accent. “Gave us all a bit of peace and quiet.”

 

Mako claps him on the shoulder with a giant hand and Hanzo knows it will bruise.

 

Finally, they are seated around the table, Hanzo in between a beaming Jesse McCree and Emily, who pushes him some water and a piece of bread with a friendly smile. He tries to smile back.

 

“We need to decide what we’re goin’ to do,” Jesse says. “Strange things are afoot, and we need to decide if we want to be a part of them or not.”

 

“I just want to get paid,” Jamison muses loudly. “It's been awhile, Cap’n.”

 

“Hold up there,” Jesse replies, tilting his hat back to peer at Jamison. “It hasn't been that long.”

 

“It has been a long time,” Lena chips in brightly.

 

Hanzo watches the exchange silently. He is surrounded by Jesse McCree. The man is literally larger than life, especially here, where he is clearly comfortable. This is a man to whose throat Hanzo has held a blade, and yet Hanzo is sitting at his table, included in the discussion and even wearing one of McCree's shirts. It is a little tight across his chest, and it smells overpoweringly like Jesse.

 

“I want to go to Hanamura for Hanzo,” Jesse announces, startling Hanzo back into the conversation. “Genji Shimada has stolen his ship and is likely to be heading in that direction too.”

 

Nobody asks why they should do this. Hanzo is expecting it, waiting for it, but it never comes.

 

“What about Reyes and Widowmaker?” Lena asks.

 

“Most likely to be heading for the heavenly river. Unlikely to get in without help.” McCree is grinning. “Currently not an issue.”

 

“Sounds good to me,” Emily says.

 

“Yes,” rumbles Mako.

 

Lena is grinning and Jamison laughs. McCree looks at Hanzo with a huge smile.

 

It's all suddenly, horribly, too much for Hanzo. These people would follow McCree into hell itself if he asked because they care for him and respect him. By extension, they would follow Hanzo there too, because McCree has decided- for some reason- that murderous, cruel Hanzo Shimada is okay by him.

 

“Excuse me,” Hanzo blurts out, his voice thick, and he pushes away from the table, back towards McCree's cabin.

 

There are tears flowing freely down his face as he arrives, tears he can't stop. He closes the door behind him and leans against it. His shoulders shake.

 

His life has never been like this. McCree is  _ loved  _ and Hanzo can never be a part of this world. It will hurt too much when he has to leave.

 

There's an insistent knocking on the door.

 

“Hanzo!” It's Jesse.

 

“Leave me,” Hanzo replies through the wood.

 

Jesse ignores him completely and pushes the door, making a surprised sound when it doesn't budge against Hanzo's solid weight.

 

“Open this door,” McCree says. There is a panicked edge to his voice.

 

“I said,  _ leave me!” _ Hanzo shouts the words, loud and frightening, the voice that has terrified countless people.

 

Silence for a second. Then a sigh, audible through the door. “Hanzo. You kidnapped me, held a knife to my throat and have generally been a huge inconvenience.  You cannot not stop me from enterin’ my own room.”

 

Hanzo reaches for the bolt and slides it along, locking the door. “Go away. Please, Jesse.”

 

They both hear the desperation is his tone. Hanzo thinks for a moment that he has finally pushed McCree away successfully.

 

“I will shoot this door down.”

 

Apparently not. “You would shoot your own door?” Hanzo asks.

 

“Don't fuckin’ test me, Han, I swear.” Hanzo hears the pistol being cocked in Jesse's hand.

 

“You are an idiot!” Hanzo yells, exasperated, but he opens the door.

 

Jesse glares in at him. His gun is still pointing at the place where the door was- so straight at Hanzo. He lowers it and blinks at Hanzo's tear-streaked face.

 

“What's wrong?” Jesse steps toward him, his soft amber eyes wide with concern.

 

“I am not like you.” Hanzo steps back from him. “I have never before known…”

 

“Known what?” Jesse closes the door behind him. “Han, what?”

 

Hanzo doesn't want to tell him. He doesn't know how to put how he feels into words. To his extreme embarrassment, what ends up coming out of his mouth is a strangled sob.

 

McCree is on him in a moment, reaching for him and pulling him in for an embrace. Hanzo wants to push him away, but there is something exceedingly comforting about being wrapped in the taller man’s arms, his face pressed into the warm fabric of McCree's serape. He breathes in the other man's scent.

 

“What is wrong?” McCree mumbles into his temple.

 

“What you have. The… camaraderie. The love. I've never known it.” Hanzo sniffs. “I envy you. And I know I do not belong here.”

 

Jesse opens his mouth as though he is about to say something, then closes it again. His heartbeat rumbles soothingly against Hanzo's cheek. “You're here because I want you to be. You saved my life after I betrayed you.”

 

“I kidnapped you.” Hanzo pushes back slightly, so that he is still cradled in Jesse's arms but is glaring up at him. “You know the stories about me. I am cruel. I have done evil things. I am not like you.”

 

“You aren't-”

 

“You don't  _ know _ me, McCree!”

 

Jesse raises an eyebrow. “Maybe not. But I'd certainly like to.”

 

Hanzo opens his mouth but he doesn't have a reply to that. He wants to tell McCree that he's an idiot again, and suicidal to boot, but then McCree kisses him.

 

Their last kiss was erotic and passionate. This is something else. McCree is tentative, clearly afraid he is going to be pushed away. He rests his mouth against Hanzo's gently.

 

Hanzo allows him to rest there for a moment, then deliberately moves out of Jesse's arms, away from his soft lips.

 

“I care for you,” Hanzo admits. “And that is the reason why I cannot allow you to attempt to form this sort of relationship with me.”

 

McCree's face is shadowed beneath his hat. “I won't let you push me away, Hanzo.”

 

Hanzo smiles bitterly. “I assure you, I am exceedingly good at it. Leave me, Jesse. Please.”

  
McCree sighs. Sarcastically, he tips his hat to Hanzo, then turns and leaves. Hanzo sinks onto Jesse's bed and closes his eyes.


	11. XI

The next week passes slowly. Lena watches Jesse and their enigmatic, fearsome guest avoid each other with awkward deliberateness, and wants to bang their heads together.

 

Jesse is clearly smitten with Hanzo Shimada. Lena catches him standing at the wheel, gazing longingly at Hanzo, who is standing at the front of the ship looking thoughtfully at the waves. She nudges Jesse and he blushes and laughs.

 

She catches Jesse holding the bloodied shirt Hanzo arrived on the ship wearing. He sits at the desk in his cabin, rum in one hand and the shirt in the other.

 

She catches the flush which spreads down Jesse's face, his throat and below his serape when Hanzo appears on the deck shirtless one morning after a wash, water glistening on his developed muscles. Jesse looks at him hungrily and Lena watches him move his fingers absent-mindedly mindedly down his own chest, following the shape of the dragon tattoos on Hanzo's body.

 

“Jesse's in love with Hanzo Shimada,” she tells Emily and Jamison over breakfast one day.

 

“Jesse falls in love all the time,” Jamison replies dismissively. He chews his food with his mouth open. “Remember when he thought he was in love with that Naval officer who arrested him for stealing his hat that night a few years ago?”

 

Lena opens her mouth to disagree, but Emily cuts in.

 

“Remember when he got drunk and told us he was in love with that statue outside the tavern?”

 

Lena laughs despite herself. “Okay. Jesse is a bit of a hopeless romantic. But this is different.”

 

“Yeah,” Jamison agrees. “This time he's in love with a man who is capable of slaughtering us all without much effort.”

 

“I like Hanzo,” Emily says. “I know he's… done some bad things. But I think he just didn't question why he behaved that way.”

 

Lena looks at her thoughtfully. “You might be right. He does seem to be becoming more… gentle.”

 

“I caught him teaching the cabin boy how to fire an arrow yesterday morning,” Jamison says, shuddering. “The last thing we need to do is encourage that little monster.”

 

“Anyway,” Lena says, because they've drifted wildly off-topic. “I don't think it's all one-sided.”

 

“Of course it is. What could the cabin boy teach Hanzo Shimada about cold-blooded murder?” Jamison asks.

 

“Not the bloody cabin boy!” Lena snaps impatiently. “Hanzo and Jesse.”

 

Lena watches Hanzo carefully. One afternoon, Jamison is telling Jesse some stupid joke, and Jesse laughs in that loud, rumbling way he has, head thrown back and one hand clutching his stomach. Hanzo is lurking nearby, and when Jesse laughs, a small smile twists his lips.

 

“He never goes near Jesse,” Emily observes. “If he had feelings for him, wouldn't he want to spend as much time as he could with him?” Her green eyes stare into Lena’s face with such intensity that the pirate blushes.

 

Jamison surprises them both by speaking. “I bet he's worried about hurting Jesse. So he's keeping his distance.”

 

Emily and Lena both stare at him, and his cheeks get pink.

 

“What? I'm not some emotionally impotent idiot,” Jamison says, folding his arms.

 

“We need to push them together,” Lena says excitedly.

 

So, nine days after Hanzo Shimada becomes a member of their crew, Lena and Emily begin their plan to get Jesse and Hanzo to talk to each other again. Jamison helps by pretending to hold a weapons inspection. Hanzo is initially reluctant to hand over his items, but Jamison refuses to stop chatting inanely to him until he does. Jesse frowns but has never questioned Jamison's eccentricities too much, and hands over Peacekeeper without much hesitation. This leaves the women free to trick Hanzo and Jesse into Jesse's cabin together.

 

Lena takes Jesse first. “Jesse, I'm worried we aren't on the best course to Japan. Can you meet me in your cabin to go over some charts?”

 

“Of course, darlin’,” Jesse replies.

 

Easy.

 

Emily tackles Hanzo. The plan here is quite different. She waits until Jesse is in his cabin and then runs wildly at Hanzo with wide eyes. “Captain Shimada!” she cries. “It's Jesse… Please help! He's in his cabin.”

 

Hanzo pales and literally sprints towards the cabin. Easy.

 

*

Hanzo's heart is racing and he is tensed to discover something awful, but when he reaches Jesse's cabin door, all he can see is the captain sitting on his bed looking at a map.

 

“Are you hurt?” Hanzo asked, confused, stepping into the room.

 

McCree looks up at him, his eyes widening. The door is pulled shut loudly and both men tense at the sound of a key clicking.

 

“What the hell-?” McCree asks, standing up and walking towards the door- and Hanzo.

 

Hanzo understands what is happening and, to his own surprise, his first instinct is to laugh. Jesse looks at him as if he has grown a second head.

 

“They have locked us in because they wish for us to talk to each other,” Hanzo explains.

 

Jesse goes pink. He looks at Hanzo for a moment, then at the door. Then he bangs his fist against the wood. “Open this door right now!”

 

There is no reply. Jesse roars and bangs again. He never usually moves this quickly, although his rippling muscles always threaten the possibility of it.

 

“I will shoot this door open!” Jesse yells.

 

“No you won't!” Jamison's gleeful voice returns through the door. “I've got your gun.”

 

“You'll walk the plank for this, Fawkes!” Jesse is red now, his face twisted up.

 

Hanzo laughs again. He doesn't know what's wrong with him. He doesn't remember laughing like this in the past several years.

 

McCree looks at him. “What are you laughin’ at, Hanzo?” he asks.

 

“I don't know.” This is true. Hanzo rubs his beard thoughtfully. “Nobody has ever played this sort of prank on me.”

 

“Everyone's probably terrified you'd skin them alive if they did,” Jesse replies glumly.

 

Hanzo smiles. He looks at Jesse, at this man he is so damn fond of, and for a moment imagines not having to push him away.

 

“Damn it,” Jesse mutters. He crosses back to his bed and his maps and sits down unceremoniously. “Well, I'm sure we can stay in here for as long as they intend to keep us without me…  _ bothering _ you again.”

 

“Bothering me?” Hanzo tries not to smile.

 

Jesse takes off his hat and flings it in frustration. “Y’know. Tryin’ to kiss you.” His face flames in embarrassment and he looks studiously at the wall. Hanzo takes in Jesse's adorably flustered face, the tangled fall of his hair, the awkward twisting of his hands.

 

This man is beautiful.

 

Hanzo knows he doesn't deserve to touch something this pure but he can't resist the urge.

 

He steps towards Jesse slowly, and he's almost on him when the other pirate realises. Jesse's brown eyes narrow in suspicion as Hanzo gets closer.

 

“Don't try to kill me,” he sighs. “I understand the temptation, I really do, but I'm sure you'd regret it.”

 

Hanzo doesn't reply and he sees the moment when Jesse realises he isn't going to stop in front of him. McCree's whole body shrinks back and he slithers back against the headboard. Hanzo climbs smoothly astride his hips and looks down at him, enjoying the sensation of having Jesse below him again.

 

“I was only jokin’,” Jesse says, panicked. His fingers flutter uselessly and Hanzo knows he is trying to decide whether or not to fight him off. “Are you actually goin’ to try to kill me?”

 

“Of course not,” Hanzo replies lightly, feeling his face twist into a wicked grin. He leans down and allows his lips to trace Jesse's ear, which makes him freeze. “I was rather hoping that you'd simply comply.”

 

“Comply?” Jesse repeats. His voice is strangled and Hanzo can feel his thickening length against his leg. “With what?”

 

“I want to tie you to the bed and fuck you.” The words come out as a growl against Jesse's ear.

  
Jesse McCree whimpers. “I'll comply, Captain.”


	12. XII

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the slight delay, I've had a busy week.
> 
> This chapter is smut and fluff.  
> Smut in first half so skip down to avoid that if you want to :)

Jesse stares up at Hanzo. Some of his hair has fallen free of its ties and frames his intense face. He wears one of Jesse's own shirts, stretched too tightly across his muscled chest. He is beautiful, and dangerous.

 

“I… I don't have anything you can tie me to the bed with,” he hears himself breathe out finally.

 

“Easily rectified,” Hanzo replies lightly, and then he hooks his hands into the collar of the shirt and tears it open, revealing his lovely torso for Jesse's greedy eyes. He rolls the fabric into a long strip, then binds Jesse's wrists to the headboard with it.

 

Jesse gives an experimental tug of his wrists. They don't budge. “Can't believe I'm volunteerin’ for this again,” he says.

 

“You love this,” Hanzo says in a smoky voice which makes his stomach twist pleasantly. His captor lowers his lips to Jesse's ear. “If you need me to untie you, please tell me.”

 

“I will,” Jesse whimpers.

 

“Good boy.” Hanzo grins against Jesse's throat as the skin there erupts in goosebumps.

 

Hanzo kisses his neck lightly, trailing down to the edge of his shirt, tracing the edge with his tongue. Jesse shudders, helpless, as Hanzo rips the garment open and continues licking down towards Jesse's nipples, nibbling one then the other. He clamps down slightly more firmly than is comfortable and Jesse hisses, the line between pleasure and pain blurring beautifully.

 

Finally, when Jesse is throbbing and moaning, Hanzo sits back, his lips wet and flushed. He grins down at Jesse. “What do you want, Captain McCree?”

 

“Fuck me,” Jesse mewls. “Please.”

 

Hanzo pulls off Jesse's trousers and boots deftly and settles himself comfortably between his legs. With one hand, he takes Jesse's cock in hand begins to slowly pump it. With the other, he lasciviously licks his own fingers and inserts two inside his captive, pushing gently until they are fully inserted. Jesse cries out incomprehensibly at the full feeling and arches his back.

 

“How is it?” Hanzo asks.

 

“It's…  _ fuck _ , Hanzo!” Jesse cries as the fingers inside him begin to move.

 

“You're being so good for me,” Hanzo praises, as he prepares Jesse with his hand. Jesse whimpers again at the words. “Are you ready for me to fuck you?”

 

“Yes,” Jesse gasps. “ _ Sí,  _ Hanzo, yes!”

 

“Say please,” Hanzo croons. There is a devastatingly attractive self-satisfied grin on his face.

 

“Please. Please.”

 

Hanzo finally leaps up to tear off the rest of his clothes. He is utterly glorious. Jesse stares at him hungrily. Hanzo settles himself back between Jesse's legs and lines his thick cock up against Jesse, who bucks his hips, desperate to be filled.

 

“Say please again,” Hanzo murmurs. “Say it in… what language do you sometimes use? Spanish?”

 

“ _ Por favor, _ ” breathes Jesse. “ _ ¡Por Dios! _ ”

 

Hanzo slides into him. Jesse lets out a strangled scream at the sensation. Hanzo is peppering his jaw with kisses, allowing him a moment to get used to the sensation.

 

Finally, he begins to move, and the sensation is so blindingly intense that Jesse throws his head back and moans.

 

“You're so good for me,” Hanzo repeats in his ear.

 

Jesse isn't going to last long. He attempts to tell Hanzo this but he finds himself incapable of forming words. As Hanzo fills him, the sensation builds within Jesse.

 

He explodes with a loud cry, pleasure washing over him in waves. As his body tenses around Hanzo, he pushes the other man over the edge too, and Hanzo bites down on Jesse's shoulder as he shakes with his own orgasm.

 

Jesse is pleasantly unaware for the next few moments. He feels Hanzo untying his wrists, mumbling soothing words in Japanese, stroking his sweaty hair back from his face.

 

Cold water is pressed against his lips and he swallows greedily. Eventually, Jesse finds himself curled up in Hanzo's arms.

 

“Hey, beautiful,” he mumbles.

 

“Beautiful,” Hanzo repeats softly. “Oddly enough, a nickname I have never received before.”

 

“No idea why. You're the loveliest thing I ever did see.” Jesse smiles against Hanzo's chest. “Perhaps people are just afraid to call you that.”

 

“I cannot imagine why,” Hanzo says drily, and Jesse laughs.

 

“Did you get me to do that just to shut up?” Jesse asks.

 

Hanzo's chest rises and falls as he laughs. “No. Had it been for that purpose, I would have failed spectacularly. You were not quiet.”

 

“No.” A blush tinges Jesse's cheeks. “Do you think the crew heard?”

 

“Almost certainly,” comes the solemn reply.

 

“Damn.” Jesse scratches absent-mindedly at his beard. “Those bastards will be so damn satisfied with themselves now.”

 

“I understand that feeling,” Hanzo smirks.

 

Jesse twists to look up into his face. It is truly remarkable, really, that in a couple of weeks Hanzo Shimada has gone from terrifying legend to (still occasionally terrifying) lover. The man is so hard to read. Jesse thinks over the hints he has had about Hanzo's life. He already knows it has not been a happy one.

 

“You look like you're drowning in thought,” Hanzo says gently.

 

“Sorry. Hanzo… you know when you said you cared about me? What did you mean?”

 

Hanzo smiles again. The transformation in his face when he allows himself to show some happiness is breathtaking. “You merely want to hear me repeat it, McCree.”

 

“Guilty,” Jesse replies with a grin, throwing his hands up in mock surrender.

 

Hanzo sighs in a faked long-suffering way. “I have grown to care for you, Jesse.”

 

“Good.” Jesse closes his eyes.

 

“I rather believe you are supposed to return the sentiment.”

 

“Hell, Hanzo, I'm crossin’ the ocean for you. I think it's safe to say I care for you.”

 

Hanzo kisses his forehead. The affection seems to startle them both, because they are looking into each other’s eyes searchingly. Hanzo bends down and kisses him. This isn't merely sexual; this is something else, something tender and deep.

 

When they draw apart, Jesse licks his lips, desperate to taste Hanzo again. “Why did you change your mind?” he asked. “You said last week we couldn't… have this sort of relationship.”

 

Hanzo exhales. “I have never really taken a partner before. Lovers, yes. But never something over a longer period of time. I struggle to trust people.” The sting of raw honesty hangs in the air.

 

“I can teach you,” Jesse replies. “That is, if you want.”

  
Hanzo pauses, then nods. “I do want.”


End file.
